So Far Away
by Blaze Lanigan
Summary: 24 hours through the eyes of the 'woikin' kids of New York'. Strength, betrayal, love truth, pain, dreams... See how kids were really affected. FINISHED! 5/23/02
1. A New Day

So Far Away

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Chapter 1

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A New Day

It was summer in New York – not the kind of summer where the children rejoiced and wasted away their days playing and swimming, at least, not for the newsies. For them summer was just another time of the year where they worked long hours for miniscule pay. Despite the sweltering heat, or the unforgiving humidity, their workday went on, and didn't dare stop for such a cause as the weather. Summer for the newsies was different than summer for any 'normal' child. They slaved away, selling their creativity - the headlines that originated in their own minds, eating whatever stale meal they could afford, and returning home, or what they only knew as home, after a long day on their feet to a poor establishment known in the city as a lodging house. Some made enough selling the daily editions that they didn't have to go back and sell in the evening. Others… weren't as fortunate.

It was in this city that a million different stories could be told – each one unique, yet in a way, each one the same. In a melting pot such as New York, there was also a deep sense of unity. The _woikin' boys of New Yoik_ as Jack Kelly of the Lower Manhattan Newsies so eloquently stated once, was a group – a union. And it didn't stop at working boys. Girls of all ages flooded into the job market. Young girls that were forced to grow up much too fast, just as their male counterparts, became newsies, worked in factories, and worked in less than reputable establishments if it meant seeing another day. _The next day will be better._ It was a common phrase among a particular group of girls that worked in a factory downtown, and it was the only thing that ensured them that one day, this statement would really come true. It has to get really bad before it can get better. These working children lived for that 'better day'. They lived to see that moment where the name street trash no longer applied to them. But until that day came upon them, they would work – work from dawn 'til dusk, for their next meal, and their next semi-warm place to spend the night.

Many never made it to that next day. Many preferred the easy way out, and many were just unfortunate enough to be caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. The number of children dying each day was so overwhelming, that if a child was a street rat, the police seemed more relieved than angry that another innocent soul was taken from their city. It was one less child to catch stealing food, one less to yell at when caught sleeping on the front stoop of a business, and one less to worry about getting in a gang fight or god forbid, injuring a highly respected member of the community.

It was wise never to get too attached to one human being, especially in a world such as New York City. Life was too unpredictable there. Too many things could happen in the mere blink of an eye. Some friendships last, others dissipate, and some end in tragedy. While in one second, a person could be your best friend, in the next, they could turn against you, stabbing you right in the back they once helped to support. It was a life of survival in New York City – survival of the fittest. Weaklings, unless surrounded by a strong pack, never made it for more than a year, at best. If you couldn't talk or fight your way out of a situation, you hid, and made sure to hide well, or you made friends with the people who could fight, and stayed behind them, through thick and thin. Friendships tested, lives taken, morals stretched, New York City could either be one of the best experiences of a child's life, or it could be the very end of their existence.

****

The sun wrestled with the tall buildings that cascaded over the dark city. It would only be a matter of minutes before the man-made structures lost to the bright orb, and light would shine over New York, awakening all its inhabitants.

A seemingly perfect day, hardly any clouds loomed over the cityscape, giving the sun complete control over its domain. The familiar sounds of horses trotting on the cobblestone echoed in the alleyways. The streets began to fill with life. Carts along the sidewalks were set up for the day, market owners began to arrange various vegetables and fruits in their displays right outside the shop doors, and newspapers rolled hot of the presses.

While city life seemed monotonous on the outside to travelers, the people who lived here knew differently. Each day proved to be a new challenge or a new adventure. Surely each day had the presence of monotony. For the working children, they awoke around the same time, went to work for the same task all day long, and worried over when would be their next meal or where they would sleep. But deeper than that was the adventure and mystery that livened their souls. They knew life wasn't easy, but they also knew that standing by and letting life take control would make it ever harder on them. Some had the courage to stand up and point their life where _they_ wanted it to go, and these children also had the courage to show others the way to do just that.

A perfect example of such courage lay in the Newsboys lodging and girls boarding houses across the city. Children from all walks of life were brought together in these institutions that housed some for the short period of a day, and some for years. It was in several of these houses that new adventures were just about to begin for some very unsuspecting lodgers.

****

"You gotta be outta yer cotton-pickin' mind," the short Italian grumbled, his face implanted in the shallow, off-white pillow beneath him. "Mornin' ain't for another half hour, at least," he asserted groggily.

"Yeah, a half hour ago, Race," interjected Jack, his greasy, brown hair pointed in every direction and his face red from burying it in his pillow as he slept. "Get up before we throw ya off dat bed," he warned with a slight hint of a smirk.

"Mmph, fine," came a muffled and rather annoyed reply. _I just had ta screw up at da tracks, a coise._ Racetrack pulled himself from beneath his ragged sheet and sighed. He sat up on the edge of his bunk and thrust his chin into his coarse hands. Life had turned particularly unlucky for the gambler lately. Due to an unfortunate amount of non-winning bets, Racetrack found himself completely broke, and the only way to make up for that was to work himself to the bone. He sold morning, afternoon, and night editions now, and would continue to do so until he could afford to have a decent meal again.

"Jesus, Race ya look like ya got hit by a cart last night in yer sleep," noted Kid Blink as he combed his fingers through his sandy blonde hair.

"Aw, stuff it," Race mumbled, his hands rubbing the sleep out of his reddened eyes.

"Quit yer dawdlin' and get movin'!" Jack yelled from the bathroom, his face newly-covered in shaving cream.

"Why do you shave anyway, Jack?" grinned a brown, curly-haired boy named Mush. "What exactly is dere ta shave off in da foist place?" he smirked.

Raising his fist, which happened to be covered with white shaving cream, Jack glared at Mush briefly as the muscular boy ducked for cover. It was common for at least one of the newsboys to be plastered with the substance in the morning, and Mush didn't want to be this morning's casualty.

To the ignorant onlooker, the newsboys' lodging house looked like a veritable scene of complete chaos in the morning, but to the boys it was a carefully timed routine. This was part of their monotony, and they have become so good at keeping out of each other's way that if you watched carefully, you would have sworn they choreographed their entire morning.

Sinks were pumped non-stop as several boys dared to take quick baths, the stall doors to the few bathrooms swung back and forth briskly, and soon the boys filed downstairs, the old, wooden steps aching beneath the pounding of a hundred feet.

It was the same each morning. On the way to the newspaper distribution center the boys did everything possible to awaken their still-tired bodies. From jumping off barrels to fencing with walking sticks, the newsboys made it a mission to stay lively in the morning. _We gotta get our brains woikin'_, Jack once stated. _And to do dat, we gotta keep movin'_. They all knew how bad the headlines could be, and motivation was key in their line of work. If a boy was groggy when he bought his papes, he was less likely to sell his stack, but a boy who was alive and ready usually sold them all. One might think selling newspapers didn't take smarts or a philosophy, but the children knew better. They knew that they had to set any morals aside each day and improve the truth in order to survive, and that was just the way life had to be.

~~

_We're lying!_ A new boy to the group once indignantly stated.

_No,_ replied Jack. _We're survivin'._

****

"Good lordy, is it mornin' already?" Fade sighed, tossing her dark brown curls to the side. Mornings never faired well with her. 

Filly snorted. "Well if ya hadn't stayed out so long last night, mornin' would have met ya on better terms." Grabbing a comb, Filly began the task of sorting through her thick hair. She always had a slight smile on her face while doing so, because it was well known to her that the other girls envied that very feature. From far away it looked to be just a plain, dark brown color, but on closer inspection, one could marvel at the red highlights that complimented her tresses.

To be envied in a boarding house was something kept sacred, and usually secret. Pride had been stripped from these girls so many times in the past, and when it was even hinted that someone else looked up to you or envied you for something, you held that dear to your heart.

Hopping down from her top bunk, a girl with deep, emerald eyes and long brown hair laughed at the pair. "Look, we haven't even been up fer five minutes and already they're goin' at it."

Fade scoffed. "Shut it Mischief! She's da one in the bad mood already." Squinting her dark eyes, she glanced around the crowded room, watching as one by one, the girls removed themselves from their beds.

Leaning against the doorway to the washroom, Blaze crossed her arms, a white towel in one hand, and a brush in the other. She waited a moment, then tossed her dirty blonde hair to the side before opening her mouth. "Enough!" she bellowed in a perturbed voice, her dull, blue eyes scanning the room to see from where the ruckus had originated. "Get up! We ain't got much time ta get ready. We're already runnin' behind. You girls wanna go hungry when they fire ya from yer jobs, or ya wanna have a nice meal tanight?" As quickly as she had appeared in the doorway, Blaze once again disappeared into the confines of the washroom.

A barrage of sighs and mumbles filled the room, each girl knowing Blaze was exactly right. While they liked having someone around to keep them on task, they hated being reminded of how hard their life really was. Sometimes it was easier to be lazy - to forget their troubles and just stop caring, but doing that had consequences that none of them wanted to face. Eating a decent meal and sleeping someplace safe was too important to them, and thus so, they had to be reminded of reality.

"Yeah girls, don't wanna lose dose jobs," Busy Body snickered from her bed in the corner of the pale-colored room. Turning on her side, her blue eyes watched in enjoyment as the others readied for their workdays. Out of the group, her day was the only one that started later, and from time to time, she liked to point out that fact whenever the others were in a particularly crabby mood.

"Just because ya landed a job wid Medda don't mean ya gotta rag on us because we actually gotta be up early," Irish Flare spat, her ice blue eyes glaring at Busy Body from across the room. When Busy Body didn't give her the satisfaction of a reply, Irish Flare turned on her heel and went back to pulling her raven back hair into a loose bun.

Mornings in the boarding house never went without some conflict. The girls weren't as agreeable to teasing as the boys were, especially in the earlier part of the day. While males were supposed to appear tough as if words meant nothing, females had a harder time of keeping emotion hidden, and it seemed conflict found an inviting home in the mornings of the girls' boarding houses. Sleep was a prized commodity in a working child's life, and when not enough rest was attained, tempers were shortened, and words were sharp.

It was this part of the morning that the girls formed several small groups. Part of the diversity at the boarding house was the different occupations the girls held. While Blizzard, Wish, and Autumn headed towards a factory downtown, Fade, Midnight, Filly, Mischief, Lee Lee, Satine, Mix, and Moneybags trekked to the distribution center, Firecracker to Tibby's, Estrella towards the book store, BC to a laundry service, and Irish Flare to Sheepshead Bay where she worked at the racetracks. 

Then there was Blaze. She made sure to wait until the last girl left, stating that it was her job to make sure they all went to work. With Busy Body asleep again in her bed, Blaze headed off to work herself – to a job no one knew about. Out of all of the girls, Blaze was regarded as the one with the most mystery. She wasn't really their leader, but more of a motherly figure to the girls. She did everything she possibly could for them, that was, except for answer questions about her personal life, especially her work habits.

~~

_Why do you live in Manhattan if ya woik at da tracks so far away?_ Busy Body inquired when Irish Flare was in one of her better moods.

Nodding, Irish Flare flashed a hint of a smile. _You stay where ya got people watchin' yer back._

****


	2. Friendship

Chapter 2

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Friendship

The word friendship was often misused in a city of such magnitude. Many had acquaintances instead of friends. To some it was thought that if you admitted to having friends, it meant you were weaker than those who claimed to be loners. It meant you needed someone to lean on, or someone to pick up the pieces when you weren't strong enough to do it yourself. _I don't have friends_, claimed a neighborhood gang member. _I've got enemies on one side, and associates on da other._

To others, friendship was part of their backbone. They needed to know they weren't alone in such a vast city, and that they had someone to turn to when their world crumbled to pieces. Friends were there to comfort, laugh, celebrate, protect, hug, cry, share, and mourn with you. Friends could keep you from going over the edge, or could be the very entity that makes you leap to your doom.

Mix narrowed her greenish-brown eyes. "I bet Fade will grab her papes and run," she casually stated. "Brooklyn's lookin' mighty fine this time of day." Smirking, Mix ran a hand through her dark brown hair, and winked as a handsome boy crossed her path. The word 'ladylike' didn't hold any meaning whatsoever for Mix. The only reason she put on a dress every morning was because of her philosophy – so many men to tease, so little time. Known for her flirting nature, many of the girls befriended Mix just so she wouldn't decide to chase down boys they had their eye on. Sometimes this worked in their favor, and sometimes it backfired. 

Snickering, Midnight flashed her menacing dark brown eyes in Fade's direction. "And she should know first hand just how fine Brooklyn really is." 

Shaking her head, Fade shot a glare in Mix's direction before she quickened her pace, opting to walk ahead of the group. Fade was called cursed by some of the girls. She was the one entangled in a relationship with the famous Spot Conlon of Brooklyn. Unfortunately for her, Spot didn't know the meaning of the word commitment, and more often than not, their relationship was off instead of on.

Midnight was widely known in the boarding house as the troublemaker. With Mischief at her side, the two made an incredible and rather dangerous pair. While Mischief liked to physically cause trouble, Midnight was more fascinated with mentally inflicting chaos – and she was damn good at getting into a person's psyche. She knew deep down that Fade and Spot loved each other, but while Fade looked at the Brooklyn Newsie Leader with adoration, Spot looked at her with indifference. He had misplaced caring and sensitivity in his heart, and all that was left was this bitter feeling. He was supposed to be 'the most feared newsie in all of New York', so how could something as ridiculous as love strike fear into his own being? For that reason Spot ran from commitment, and while he tried to express himself to Fade, instead he was bitter and resentful of her for causing him to feel so afraid of something so wonderful. He couldn't be weak… ever. And for that reason, he couldn't love.

There were other girls, Mix included, that Spot spent time with. He wouldn't even admit it to his most trusted associates that he had cheated on Fade many times in the past, but Fade knew she wasn't his only girl. She wasn't unenlightened of girls that flirted with him, and she had been informed in confidence of his encounters by newsies from Manhattan and Brooklyn, but she loved him, and for that reason alone, she remained as ignorant of his wayward acts as possible.

"Can't ya goils ever just keep quiet 'bout something?" Moneybags questioned, doing her best to hide the worry in her light, brown eyes. She despised conflict, especially when it included the only friends she had. She knew what Midnight would do if she sensed that Moneybags was more upset than angry.

"Aw, whatsa matter Moneybags? Worried Fade will find out about ya and Spot da other night?" Midnight asked innocently as she batted her eyelashes.

And that was exactly what Moneybags knew Midnight would do. Her words lacked any truth to them, but Midnight knew they would still sting in Fade's mind.

"Ya know that's a bunch of poppycock, Middy," Satine chimed in, coming to the rescue of both Fade and Moneybags. Her deep blue-green eyes centered their attention on Midnight, hoping that for once, she might just take back something she had stated. Satine was one of the shyest in the group. Her words always came softly and not once had the girls heard her speak ill of another lodger, but they all wondered when one day she would finally explode from her gentle mannerism.

Midnight shrugged. "I think Moneybags can answer dat better den I can."

"Enough Middy!" Lee Lee cried, shaking her reddish-black hair back and forth. Her usually smooth caramel-colored skin was creased near her forehead, showing just how tired she was of the bickering.

"I agree with Lee," Filly added. "We're almost to the DC – do you really wanna show up fightin'? I've got a boy ta worry about! He's already in a bad mood enough for da both of us!"

"Just because you gotta steady man and we don't, doesn't mean ya gotta rub it in all da time!" Fade yelled over her shoulder, which in turn signified that she had been listening to the entire conversation, despite walking ahead of the group.

"It's yer own fault dat yer man ain't faithful," Mix asserted, swaying her hips in her light blue skirt back and forth while Mischief whistled.

In a failed attempt to lose the group of girls behind her, Fade pressed on, and without looking where she was headed, plowed directly into a fruit cart, oranges, apples, bananas, and grapes flying through the air in a rainbow-like spectacle.

It was then that previous arguments were discarded, leaving the seven girls to rush to Fade's side, helping their fallen comrade to her feet. Without a word spoken between them, the eight dashed down the street, leaving an angry street vendor with his arms flailing in the air, shouting for someone to pay for the mess.

"Did ya see da look on his face?" Mischief giggled as she brushed off her dark blue dress. "We should taunt him later."

Lee Lee shook her head as she straightened the plaid vest over her faded green blouse. "You are yer crazy ideas!"

The eight slipped into an alleyway, each taking a moment to gather themselves after the unexpected dash. Catching their breaths, not a word was said about Fade's collision with the cart, but instead the chatter turned towards their work for the day. The distribution center was only a few blocks away, and soon they'd find out just how horrid the headline was. There was an unspoken rule with these girls. Some lived to drive the others insane, but when push came to shove, they were there for each other. If a girl needed help, you helped them and the accepted your help – you didn't stop to think about how just a second before they had teased or insulted you – you acted immediately because deep down you were bonded together – you were friends.

Finally, Filly interrupted the girls' banter. "Alright girls, let's be headin' to the DC before dere ain't no papes left."

Nodding, the girls trudged out of the alleyway, each glancing back down the street in case the vendor had decided to try and find them. Having decided it was safe to continue on, they did so - Mix flaunting herself at any good-looking man, Midnight and Mischief planning an evil scheme, Filly making sure she looked proper when she met up with Skittery, and Fade, Moneybags, Satine, and Lee Lee conversing about anything that didn't involve boys.

~~

_Why are ya friends wid him if he's so mean to ya?_ Les once asked of Kid Blink, referring to one of the gang leaders in Lower Manhattan named Snake. _All he does is call ya names 'cause of yer eye. He ain't very nice to any of us._

_Because_, Kid Blink stated, his fingers instinctively touching his eye patch. _If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have one eye left. Sometimes we don't make friends wid people we normally would. Sometimes dey get thrust into our lives and we don't really gots a choice. Snake helped me out when I was in trouble, and he didn't have to – we both know dat. I can still see 'cause of him. I don't care if he calls me a million names, he's my friend._

****


	3. Insecurity

Chapter 3

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Insecurity

Each living soul in New York had one form of insecurity or another. Whether their confidence level was high or not was the difference between having those insecurities used against them, or having them safely guarded against any form of exposure.

The children didn't like showing insecurities. It meant they weren't completely solid. To some it signified weakness. _Never show yer hesitant. Never back down. If yer wid me, ya ain't scared of nothin'! Walk tall. I don't care if on da inside yer scared stiff, don't show it!_ Spot Conlon himself used those words on many occasions. Boys weren't supposed to be insecure. They trained to be strong men, and men just didn't bother with silly words like insecurity. Girls avoided the very topic. Revealing insecurities meant they were no longer safe from taunting and ridicule. If they were insecure about physical appearance and admitted that, did that make their feelings on their own body true? If they kept their thoughts a secret, did it mean it was all in their head, with no truth to the matter?

"Does my vest look alright? I don't think it fits me well. I must look like an idiot in this," he mumbled, tugging at the corners of his garment. "She's going to laugh at me in this get-up. I know it."

Chuckling, Jack straightened the cowboy hat on his head before draping his arm around his selling partner and best friend, David Jacobs. "Will you relax! Ya haven't even shown me dis goil yet. How am I supposed ta tell ya if she's yer type if ya won't introduce me to da lovely lady?"

_Because you'll laugh at me and I just can't stand another person teasing me – especially about her._ Nervously brushing a hand through his short curls, David felt his body tense at the sheer thought of the girl he'd wasted countless hours mulling over. "I haven't even introduced myself, it'd be a little difficult to introduce her to strangers, Jack."

Sporting a lopsided grin, Jack balled his hand into a fist and lightly tapped David's chin. "We ain't gonna be strangers aftah today," he stated boldly.

Brushing his scuffed brown boots against the ground, David shrugged. "How can you be so sure? She doesn't even know us. What if she hates me after talking for a minute? What if… what…"

"Davey! Ya ain't never gonna get near a woman actin' like dat!" Looking around, Jack searched the crowd for another newsboy to help them out. David needed practice before talking to this goddess, as he referred to her. "What we need ta do is get some of da boys tagether and boost yer confidence."

"No! I mean… no, Jack, I can do this. Nobody else needs to help me out. Just… let's get it over with, okay?" The last thing David wanted was the entire lodging house knowing about his girl troubles. It was enough that he confided in Jack. He trusted the newsie leader not to drag his dilemmas into the spotlight of the lodging house news. David wasn't able to talk to his father about girl issues, or Sarah, his sister, but Jack seemed to take David under his wing, and help him out with any problem.

"Take me to dis goddess den," Jack grinned. Pushing the cowboy hat from his head, Jack shoved his hands in his pants pockets and walked alongside his anxious best pal.

The walk to the factory was almost without incident. Jack insisted on breaking out into chuckles every now and then as he thought about David actually going out with a girl. This was the first time David had initiated a conversation about women, and Jack couldn't get his mind around the fact that his partner was growing up. When Jack actually stated 'Davey's growin' up,' David nearly called the whole thing off, but Jack promised to behave, and the rest of the walk was accomplished in silence.

His heart rate increasing, David felt his palms begin to sweat. In the distance stood a group of the girls from the factory, all engrossed in deep conversation. His eyes fell on the very girl he had been obsessing over. She didn't stand out of the crowd by any means, but she had caught David's eye the very first time she passed him on the streets and since that moment, he hadn't been able to get her face out of his mind. She was a few inches shorter than he, with dark, ashy-brown hair that was kept out of her face by a long, singular braid. Her ivory skin was covered by a long-sleeved, white blouse and a flowing gray skirt that reached to her black leather boots.

"Which one is she?" Jack asked, growing impatient as he watched David hesitantly stare at the group.

After a few moments of silence, David snapped out of his reverie by Jack's elbow in his side. "Oomph… In the middle… wearing the gray skirt. Ya see her?"

Nodding, Jack patted David's back, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, what are we waitin' for?"

"Jack… maybe… maybe this isn't a good time. I mean, they look busy. Maybe we should try again tomorrow or something," David stuttered. _I won't even be able to make a full sentence come out. She'll hate me._

"Hell no. We walked all da way here and yer gonna talk to her. C'mon," Jack insisted, dragging an apprehensive David along with him.

David opened his mouth to protest, but he was smart enough to know when he was just wasting his breath. Before Jack could physically drag him over to the group, David straightened up and walked beside him, hoping to seem somewhat confident when they approached the girls.

"It's gonna be fine," Jack whispered, his confidence at times overwhelming to David. Les, David's little brother, already emulated the newsie leader, and there were many times David wished he was more like Jack – he wished he could single-handedly lead the newsies everyday, instead of just several times when he hesitantly took charge in Jack's absence. What David didn't comprehend was that he really _did_ have that take-charge initiative. When he saw himself as a timid leader who took over in the shadow of another, the newsies saw a competent equal who they trusted and followed. David just hadn't dug deep enough to realize that.

"Well, lookie here, a couple of fine gents meanderin' our way," Wish smirked, her head cocked to the side slightly to indicate the presence of new blood on the way over.

Looking up, Blizzard noticed the pair and quickly turned to her outfit. "Dey really should give us proper notice before presentin' demselves. We look like hell!" she whispered forcefully and hurried to make sure her white shirt and green skirt were as clean as possible from the factory's soot.

"Blizz, ya look fine," Wish stated, her big, brown eyes dancing with mischief as she glanced over to see if the boys were still headed their way. Brushing her black hair behind her shoulders, Wish turned to Autumn, who was doing her best to disappear in the crowd. "Auty… Auty! Smooth yer hair back, it's all messy up top. C'mon, don't be shy dis time. Say somethin' to da boys when dey come over."

"Just promise me we won't have an episode like last time," Blizzard mumbled. "I think da last boys ta talk to us thought we was from another planet by how much we babbled."

Sighing, Autumn crossed her arms by her chest and waited for this to be over. She'd watch the others flirt with the boys while she worked up the courage to spout out a hello. Wish was the outgoing girl, Blizzard was confident in her ways, and Autumn was the shy girl when it came to meeting new people. She had a wilder side to her, but not many girls had seen that yet, as it took her a long time to settle in with new friends.

"Just be calm, Dave," Jack whispered before he plastered on a wide grin. "Mornin' ladies," he greeted, using his best debonair voice.

"Mornin'," Wish replied, smiling back at the two. "Somethin' we can do for you fellas?"

Jack knew that the break these girls were on would probably end soon, so he decided to get right to the point. "Actually, we was wonderin' if we could talk to that pretty lady," he answered, gesturing to Autumn.

"Me?" Autumn questioned in near disbelief. Usually boys talked to Wish or Blizzard, because they were so much more forward and open – in turn they would overlook Autumn because of her shyness.

Nodding, Jack gently nudged David in the side. "My friend here noticed ya walkin' da other day, and decided he just had ta know yer name."

"Does dis friend talk?" Blizzard smirked, noting David's lack of verbal participation.

"Sure he does! Oh, where are me manners? Me name's Jack, and dis here is David. He's really a walkin' mouth – he's just restin' his voice taday," Jack explained.

"So we see," Wish giggled. "Well, da goil yer referring to is Autumn, and dat'd be Blizzard, and I'm Wish."

"Nice ta meet ya ladies," Jack grinned. "And do you think Autumn might be interested in accompanying us ta lunch latah?" David wasn't being the slightest help, and he knew if his buddy ever wanted to talk to this girl, Jack was going to have to set something up.

"What do ya think Auty?" Blizzard inquired, winking at her quickly.

David wanted to open his mouth, even to utter an ill-timed hello, but for the first time in his life, he was speechless. On the inside his brain was flying a mile a minute, thinking up the slightest thing to say and then deciding that it wasn't good enough for Autumn's ears. She deserved more than he was capable of uttering.

"I-I might be inclined ta go…" she answered. _Dey's asking me to lunch?_ Autumn was still so taken by the recent events that she wasn't sure what was going on anymore."

"So, is dat a yes?" Jack asked, flashing his famous smile. 

"Hmm, I suppose…" Autumn shrugged. _What do I have to lose? That is, besides them not showing up and the girls making fun of me… What the hell, dis Jack fella seems awful nice, even if his friend… what was his name… David… yeah, even if David ain't much of a talker, Jack seems sweet… _Autumn thought, completely overlooking the fact that Jack said David had noticed her first.

"Great! Know where Tibby's is?" Jack asked. When he received a quick nod, Jack smiled. "We'll be dere at noon."

"Okay…" Autumn trailed off. _Is this really happening?_

"Come on girls, we'll be late getting back," Wish stated. "Nice meetin' you boys," she smiled and ushered the group towards the door.

"Bye," David finally squeaked out, earning a few giggles from the crowd.

"Ya did good, Dave," Jack lied, trying to boost David's mangled spirits.

"I said one word," David scowled.

"At least ya said somethin'," Jack laughed. "Now come on, we gots papes ta sell if we wanna pay for dis lunch!"

~~

_Spot, he's twice yer size. The boys say he lifts the younger newsies ta build muscle. How ya gonna beat him?_ Jack asked of Spot Conlon the day of a fight between leaders.

_Because deep down he's scared of me. He's heard da rumors goin' around. He knows I ain't backin' down. It's a mind trick. While he hesitates ta come aftah me, I'll attack. He'll nevah know what happened… And dat, Jacky-boy, is da power of da mind. He'll back down because he's just as vulnerable as da guy I beat last week… you just wait and see._

****


	4. Love

Chapter 4

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Love

Love comes in all shapes and sizes. It's been described as a billion different things, reaching from one spectrum to another, but usually those descriptions have one thing in common – love is a struggle; it ain't easy. Love is a strong entity. You can try to be as ignorant as humanly possible about love, but love doesn't care if you acknowledge it or not – it will pester you until the day you finally open the door and invite it in. Love doesn't mind if you let it stay the night, or forever – as long as it's presence was recognized, love's done its job. Once the door is open, there's no turning back. Love is fickle, painful… Love is all-encompassing, love is rejection, anxiety, stubborn - love is… beautiful.

In the newsies' world, love usually came second to things like working and making sure there was enough food to eat, but that didn't mean many of them liked it that way. Love was a difficult thing for a child to grasp. Kids were thrown out on the streets at such an early age that the real meaning of love seemed to escape many individuals. Was it attainable? Could they really find love in the treacherous streets of the city? It was the ultimate silent question. It rested heavily upon the minds of the youngsters as they grew into strong and capable adults, but did they ask one another such a thing? Did they open themselves up to another soul, and ask if love was possible to attain? To some that meant opening up a wound and becoming vulnerable to any predator in reach. But some had the courage to open themselves up to such perils – some could feel love so strongly inside their beings that they felt they would burst if they didn't tell someone. 

It was such a courage that Skittery, a Lower Manhattan newsie, possessed. He was the unlikely one of the bunch – no one had expected him to be open about anything, certainly not feelings, and especially not love. His mood swings bewildered some, and annoyed others, but he was one of them, and the newsies stood by his behavior, despite his grim look on life at times.

What they didn't know was that Skittery was completely different on the inside. He was a swelling bowl of emotions and passion. He really adored life and all it could offer him, even in his current status as a newsie, but because he owned such a compass of internal emotions, he never knew quite how to handle them all, and in turn he appeared standoffish and dismal. Confused of his feelings and thoughts, Skittery closed himself off to others, and while on the outside he remained pessimistic, on the inside, he was struggling to show the world he wasn't at all as he seemed. 

Skittery searched for someone to help him deal with emotion. He hated being so reserved, when inside he was aching to express himself in ways besides cynicism and blighted hope. In his search he uncovered a rarity in a girl named Filly. In some ways, she was the exact opposite of him. While he continually searched within him for new paths and depths he never knew about, Filly hated to look inside herself. She relied on self-control and felt that any kind of self-evaluation could take that control away.

Instead, Filly concentrated most of her energy on Skittery. She let him rant and rave to her in the afternoons after they had finished selling papers, and she did her best to come up with answers to his myriad of questions. They were both pessimistic on the outside, Filly by nature, and Skittery by his imbalance of emotions, yet Skittery yearned to show Filly a world where optimism prevailed, and trust consumed betrayal, if he could only come to grips with his thoughts.

They'd only been dating for a few weeks, but it didn't take Skittery long to realize his feelings for Filly ran deeper than he had ever fathomed. His emotions began to run rampant, and he closed himself off to her. When Filly asked what was wrong, he would snap at her, his temper shortened by his anxiousness to tell her how he felt and his incapability to do so. He struggled to be open with Filly, but the thought that she might reject his feelings was too overwhelming. If he admitted to being in love with her, would Filly be able to look inside herself and find a similar love? Or would she in turn close off to him, afraid that she'd lose any self-control if she dared to get so close to him? 

Today Skittery aimed to change the direction of their relationship. He had stayed up late last night, deciphering his thoughts under the stars, contemplating a course of action, then imagining how it might pan out in his head, and finally, Skittery was ready to take charge of this emotional swell.

The day planned out in his head, Skittery had already bought their papers, using the money he'd been saving to spring for Filly's stack as well. He stood at the gates of the distribution center, wiping his brow every once in awhile as he waited for the girls to arrive.

"Look, he's even waitin' for her," Midnight scowled, seeing Skittery leaning on the gate. "Ya've got him trained."

"Bloody hell, can't ya ever keep that trap of yers shut?" Filly snapped, having quite enough of Midnight for the day. Inwardly grinning, as Midnight merely glared in reply, Filly walked over to Skittery, leaving the other girls to get their papers.

"Mornin'," Skittery greeted, his face brightening at the sight of his girl.

"And good mornin' to you." Gesturing to the papers in his hand, Filly raised a brow at him. "Ya plannin' on sellin' all dose today? Dat's quite a load for one boy."

Skittery shook his head. "N-no, I bought yers too." He held out her normal amount, a lopsided grin spreading across his features.

Filly took the stack, hastily shoving it under an arm of her faded brown dress. "I don't need yer charity, ya know. I ain't had no trouble buyin' me own in da past."

"I-I know… I was… Well, can't ya let me do somethin' nice once in awhile?" he asked, his voice sounding strained. This wasn't how he wanted the day to go and he was growing more nervous by the minute.

"Yeah… alright," Filly sighed. She wasn't used to being treated this way. She was always afraid that perhaps people were only nice to her when they wanted something out of her, and unfortunately that feeling had just surfaced again. "Let's just get sellin'."

Wordlessly, the pair walked to their normal selling spot and began spouting headlines. Every so often, Skittery would glance at Filly and forget his work, his thoughts centered on what he would tell her today. Filly, in turn, was completely nervous by his actions. First he had bought her papers, and now he was staring at her – he wanted something.

Finally, Skittery gave up on his work and sat down, his palms sweating, and his breath shallow. He wasn't done selling papers, but his mind refused to let him work in peace until he had told Filly the truth.

"Givin' up already?" Filly asked as she walked over to the bench and tossed her remaining papers down beside his on the ground.

"No… no, it's just…" Inwardly cursing himself, Skittery reached for Filly's hands and brought her to sit beside him on the rusted park bench.

"Den what is it?" Filly asked impatiently. She'd been uneasy by his behavior all morning and figured now was the time when he'd ask something of her. She only wished to be somewhere else at this very moment, instead of being here with him, facing an issue he was going to bring up.

"I've been thinkin'…" he started, then chuckled nervously. "I mean, well ya know I'se always thinkin'… but I mean, really thinkin'… 'bout you and me." He paused for a moment, again trying to group his thoughts one last time. The day was so perfect, and he didn't want to waste it. The summer breeze whistled through the leaves of the park trees, and the branches lazily swayed back and forth. It seemed like nature was on his side, urging him on – now if only he could work up the nerve to tell her.

"What about you an' me?" Filly questioned as she fidgeted in her seat. She could feel herself begin to panic just by the look on Skittery's face.

Remembering his preparations the day before, Skittery hurried to continue, fighting off the force to give up. This was his moment and he was going to take it. Filly had to know how he felt, and why he had been acting so strange. Reaching out, Skittery gently clutched Filly's hands in his own, his thumbs running over her knuckles in an attempt to keep them both calm.

"Filly," he started as his eyes fixated on hers. "I don't even know where ta begin… I thought about dis for so long, and still I can't get it right," he sighed. "Over dis past month, ya've been dere for me, lettin' me talk for hours, offerin' advice. I ain't never trusted anyone wid me problems before, only you."

Her breathing shallow, Filly found herself utterly confused. _What was he trying to get at? What was so important? If he wanted to thank me, he woulda said dat by now._

"I-I know I've been a pain dis week… I didn't mean to… I just couldn't… I couldn't tell ya dat I… I…" Squeezing his eyes shut, Skittery could hear the words being chanted in his mind. Slowly he opened them again, his eyes immediately gazing into her own. "What I'm tryin' to say is dat I love you."

The words being said, Skittery felt as if the world had suddenly slowed its pace. He could hear his heart beating within his head, and he knew it was impossible for time to stand still, but it seemed like it was. Filly wasn't moving - she wasn't saying anything, her body wasn't showing any signs of a reaction.

Then, his worst fears became reality. Her eyes became dark with anger, a sight Skittery had seen before. Much to his dismay, Filly withdrew her hands as if he was holding them near a hot flame. She pushed herself away, scooting to the other side of the bench – it was too much for her.

"I…I can't… No, I can't," she mumbled, shaking her head wildly as she stood. In utter failure, Skittery watched as Filly raced down the road, leaving him alone on the bench, the image of his perfect day forever banished from his dreams.

~~

"Filly! Filly what are ya doin' here? Ain't ya supposed ta be sellin' papes?" Bingles asked, sweeping the blonde hair from his face with large, coarse hands.

"I-I was," she replied, breathing heavily after her run downtown. "I've… I've finished for da day."

"It's only eleven! Den what brings ya down to these waters? I thought you'd be out with yer boy, struttin' him around somewhere." Bingels grabbed a seat on the wooden crate besides his younger sister, his face clouding over as he glanced over her features. "What's wrong?"

Catching her breath, Filly struggled with even divulging what had just happened. She felt tears well up in her hazy-green eyes and fought to keep them back. Bingles was one of the only people to see her cry, and even though she felt most comfortable around her brother, she still hated to cry in front of anyone.

Taking his sister into his arms, Bingles didn't know what to say. Her eyes showed him so much conflict and confusion, but what was she so upset about? "Filly, yer me only sibling. Ya know ya can trust me 'bout anythin'. What's wrong?" he whispered.

Holding onto him, Filly buried her head in his strong chest. Bingles was much taller than Filly and whenever she was encased in his arms, she felt so safe and secure. It wasn't until he stroked through her thick hair that she allowed herself to speak – feeling that safety net around her with him there. "I've messed things up… I've messed dem up so bad dat I can never go back… I can't see him again…"

"See who again?" Bingles asked, holding Filly closer.

"Skittery," she mumbled. "I can't ever face him again. He… he wasn't supposed to do that to me! He knows… he knows I can't handle that, and he did it anyway!" she yelled, her voice still muffled by Bingles' chest.

"What did he do that was so horrible?"

"He…" Shaking her head, Filly forced herself from Bingles chest, and looked up into his eyes. "He told me he loved me. How could he do such a thing?" she whispered, feeling as if somehow Skittery had hurt her by those words.

Sighing, Bingles ran a finger down her cheek and smiled. It was the first time Filly had come to him with such a dilemma, but Bingles knew eventually this day would come. It didn't surprise him that his sister ran from such an emotion, but he was prepared to show her that running wasn't always the answer. "Filly, ya remember dat goil named Ana, dat I used to hang around with?"

"Yeah… back home… I remember her."

"She was at beautiful as da sun, and as mysterious as da moon," Bingles thought wistfully. "I spent so much time wid her, runnin' around da farms, chasin' each other through hay stacks, tellin' each other what we wouldn't dare tell no one else… I knew I loved her. I knew I wanted ta spend da rest of me life wid her, and I would have. Mark me words, I would have… But life doesn't always let things happen so easily, and dat's when we had ta come here, to America. It don't change da fact dat I still love her, and I think about her everyday."

"But she was different… yer different… Any goil can trust ya. I know dat. If you said loved her, den you did, but maybe Skittery ain't like you," Filly reasoned.

"When he told you… when dose words came out of his mouth, did you see da look in his eyes aftah?"

Filly shook her head. "No… I was too… too shocked ta look at him."

"Den right before he told ya. Did you see 'em den?"

Thinking back, Filly nodded. "I s'pose I did."

"What was dat look in his eyes?"

Sighing, Filly thought this was a bunch of rubbish – a waste of time. But at the seriousness in Bingles' voice, she decided to continue the conversation. "He was pensive…"

"Close yer eyes and remember what he looked like… Go on," he insisted, smiling as she complied.

"He looked like he had somethin' so serious ta tell me. He looked scared too… but… like he was so sure he had to tell me. It was so hard to figure out what he was gonna say… He looked nervous, but at da same time… eager. Like…"

"Like he wanted to express somethin' to you dat he had never told anyone before… because it felt so right in his heart, and he wanted you to feel that too. He wanted you to feel that joy he had welled up inside him. I looked exactly like dat when I told Ana."

"And I ran from him…" Filly barely whispered.

"Go to him - explain to him why you ran. If he's half the man you've described ta me, he'll listen."

~~

_Love, heh, who needs it? Right Spot? Love ain't nothin' but trouble, _one Brooklyn boy insisted. 

Chuckling, Spot patted his shoulder. _Right, nothin' but trouble. Don't evah fall in love, it'll be yer death_, he explained before wandering away from the docks by himself. _Or da greatest thing ta happen in yer life,_ he whispered under his breath.

****


	5. Secrets

Chapter 5

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Secrets

Well-kept, scary, dangerous, miniscule, inhibiting, silly, sinful – all words that could be used to describe the plethora of secrets upheld in New York City. There were people that thrived on secrets – their lives revolved around gossip and knowing just a tiny bit more than the opponent. Secrets could put them at the top of their game, or shuffle them to the back of the pack. It seemed each working child had one at least one secret they strived to hide from the world – one experience that they didn't dare confess to another soul. Whether it be as small as a friendly pact, or as big as a murder, secrets had the power to send its possessor through hell and back.

The humid late morning encouraged the inhabitants of the city streets to take solace inside, but as the day stretched on, the sticky weather was combated with water and shade, if it could be found.

Blaze clutched to the off-white handkerchief in her hand, occasionally bringing it to her forehead to wipe away any newly formed beads of sweat. The late morning sun was making sure she learned just how powerful it really was, and Blaze only wished the humidity and the sun would stop working on the same team.

She weaved through scores of pedestrians, exhausting her voice as one 'sorry' was mumbled after another. She knew this route all too well, and knew of how crowded these streets could be. At the end of the next block, Blaze's tired eyes rested upon her destination – a beautiful and inviting light tan building on the corner of Madison Avenue and 96th Street in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Climbing the steps, Blaze inhaled deeply before she knocked upon the enormous black door.

For what seemed like eternity, Blaze patiently waited outside, her legs begging to rest from the intense walk uptown, and her heart aching to see what was on the other side of that door. Finally, the door let out a familiar groan as it opened, and in the doorway stood a woman of about twenty-five, who was much shorter than Blaze, with what seemed a forced smile on her face.

"Blaze, I was hoping you'd be coming around this time. Come on in, she's waiting for you." The girl with short brown hair and inviting eyes ushered her into the house, quickly closing the door behind them. Taking Blaze's arm, she led her down the narrow hallway, the smile on her face replaced by a look of anticipation. "She's been asking for you all week."

The house echoed with life - children's laughter and the pounding of tiny feet could be heard behind the closed doors of the living room. Each and every window was open, the white curtains dancing in the wind as the warm breeze floated through the rooms. The hallway was almost barren, except for a few paintings hung prominently on the walls. Though the ruts in the cranberry carpet revealed that at one time, the hallway was filled with chairs and small tables, over the years Maddy had taken the furniture upstairs, as the children had bumped their heads or limbs against the aging wood too many times for her liking.

"How's she been?" Blaze asked, concerned by the expression on Maddy's face. She was always smiling, and Blaze felt comfortable around Maddy for that exact reason, but now she sensed that something was wrong, and her body tightened with worry.

"Vivid, as always," Maddy laughed. "Come, I wanted to talk to you about something." She pointed to a smaller room, which Maddy had converted from a parlor to an office years ago. The entire house had been left to her in her father's will, and because of her love with children, Maddy had turned the place into a daycare.

Taking a seat in a red velvet chair, Blaze anxiously looked at Maddy, and clutched her hands together nervously, setting them in the lap of her light blue skirt. "Somethin' wrong?"

Maddy shrugged lightly as she took a seat in the chair beside Blaze. "I'm not sure yet. You see, I've been offered a position in Boston. I'd be working with children who have disabilities, and I've always dreamed of being able to do that one day. If I don't go now, I'm not sure I'll ever have the chance again." She turned to Blaze, awaiting some sort of reaction.

"That's… That's wonderful Maddy. Ya've been talkin' about dis for what seems like centuries." Blaze felt herself panic slightly. She knew the consequences of Maddy's move to Boston. She'd expected, yet dreaded this day for the past four years.

"Are you all right with this, Blaze? I know I promised I'd look after her for as long as it takes, but if I move, I think she should stay here with you. She loves you so much. You really shouldn't beat yourself up about how things worked out. You've been putting her first since day one, and I know you'll continue to do that."

Nodding, Blaze's thoughts turned to the girls at the boarding house. How could she tell them? What would they think of her? How would they treat her after this? But more importantly, how would they treat her daughter? "I'm so happy for ya Maddy. Ya've helped me out when no one would… I can never repay ya enough for all ya've done."

Pushing herself up in the chair, Maddy reached out and took Blaze's hands. "Nonsense. All I did was provide a place for her to live. We all know it's you who brings by money for food and clothes… not to mention candy once in awhile when you want me to run ragged after a sugar-infested four year old!" Smiling, Maddy gently patted Blaze's knee. "I know you're worried about the girls at the boarding house, don't think I haven't learned to decipher those thoughts of yours… but, it's going to work out, I know it. They respect you and look up to you. That won't change."

_But it could._ Blaze let a smile tug at her lips. Worrying over what the others might think wasn't worth it right now. "I'm goin' ta have to find a new line of work." Blaze shook her head, giving a slight laugh.

"Why not try being a newsie like some of the other girls?" Maddy suggested. "You could take Hope with you. I bet she'd even help you reel in men who wouldn't normally buy papers."

Sighing, Blaze nodded. "Aye, I could. I'll figure dat all out later." She didn't like discussing her line of work. Maddy was the only friend of hers that actually knew her past and what she did for a living. Hope had been the product of Blaze's first and only customer. After that experience, she turned to working in bars. The sleaziest males on earth were still able to get away with touching her while she brought them drink after drink, but that was as far as she let it go. The tips from just that alone were too good to pass up, especially when she had a daughter to support. Shivering slightly, Blaze shook her head. "Enough about me, I want details! When are ya movin'?"

Maddy gripped to Blaze's hands as she ascended from the chair, pulling Blaze up with her. "Next week sometime, I would imagine. I'm waiting to hear back from the agency up there now as to where my living quarters might be. Right now I've been hurrying to get things packed. Today is the last day these children will be running rampant in this old house," she explained with a sigh – she would miss these kids. "But enough talking my dear, we mustn't keep Hope waiting. She'd pull my ear if you didn't show up today!"

Smiling at the mere mention of her daughter's name, Blaze followed Maddy out of the office and towards the living room. "How many children are you watchin' right now? Sounds like a circus in there!"

Laughing, Maddy delicately ran a hand through her hair. "I'm not sure – certainly lost count by now!" she teased.

Opening the large sliding doors to the living room, Blaze and Maddy were greeted by the sound of numerous children laughing as they chased each other around the room. Some were playing quietly with dolls or trains in the corners of the room, but most were actively participating in the chasing game in the center.

At almost the same time, Blaze caught a glimpse of Hope just as the little girl looked up to see who had entered the room. "Mommy!" she screeched, pushing through the crowd of kids as she raced to her mother's side. Within seconds, both child and parent were toppled over on the ground, smiling and laughing together.

"I missed you," Blaze whispered once her daughter released her tight hug.

"I missed you more!" the child cried, engaging Blaze in another breath-reducing hug.

"Oomph!" Blaze protested. Carefully she detached Hope from around her neck and gently took the child's delicate hands. "Sweetie, I have something to tell ya."

Hope's bright blue eyes lit up. Usually when a conversation started off like this, it meant Blaze had a surprise, and the last one had been a nice supply of candy. "What'd ya bring me?"

"See what you did. She's candy prone now," Maddy interjected.

Laughing, Blaze shook her head. "I don't have any candy for you today, but I wanted to ask ya somethin'…" Blaze stopped to take a deep breath, a small fear of rejection welling up inside her. Hope was so used to living with Maddy in this big house with children her age. When Blaze took her from such a nurturing and familiar environment, would Hope resent her for it? Would she even want to go with her mother, or plead to stay with Maddy? "Ya remember how we talked about you an' me livin' together when ya was older?"

Her head bobbing up and down, Hope smiled. She was the spitting image of her mother – blue eyes, curly, golden-blonde hair which was just a bit lighter than her mother's, the same fair skin, and she was outfitted in a dark green dress with dull, black boots. Blaze had smiled so proudly the day she first looked at her daughter. She had been so afraid that the child would look more like the father, and had prayed for that not to happen. "I remember. You said one day I would live with you, in a nice house, and we'd play all day long. Just us."

"Dat's right," Blaze smiled. "I know I said it might not be for a long time, but… how would ya feel if ya came to live wid me now? We'd live with my friends for now, until I can get us a nice place." Blaze wanted to close her eyes. She was so terrified of Hope's reaction. She'd faced too much rejection and pain in her life, and she knew she wouldn't be able to stand seeing that from her daughter.

Hope didn't answer verbally, instead she leaned over and gently hugged her mother. "Promise to play with me always?"

"Oh sweetie, of course I promise!" Blaze answered. "I'll play wid you as much as I possibly can – all da time."

"Can we still visit Miss Maddy?" Hope asked, her eyes traveling to look up at the woman who had taken such good care of her these past years.

"Well… ya see, Miss Maddy's goin' ta be leavin'…" Blaze saw the disappointment in Hope's eyes and hurried to sugarcoat Maddy's departure. "…on her vacation. Miss Maddy's goin' ta Boston next week to help even more children."

"That's right," Maddy smiled. She knelt down by the pair and gently stroked Hope's blonde locks. "I'm going to take care of even more children than I have here."

"But, what about all these kids?" Hope asked.

"They'll have someone to look after them, I've made sure of that," Maddy nodded. "Don't you worry, they'll be just fine."

Hope turned to look back at her playmates, who still were carrying on in the living room. Pushing herself up, she walked back into the room and started to rummage through one of the cedar toy chests. Both Maddy and Blaze looked after her with curiosity as Hope brought back a tattered doll from the bottom of the box.

"Dis was me favorite doll when I played here. No one else used it 'cause it was so old, but I did. I think she's the best doll out of all of 'em, but I never told no one dat," Hope explained. "I kept it a secret." Hope brushed her fingers through the doll's yellow strands of yarn. One button eye was already missing, and the mouth and nose that were drawn on its face had faded over the years. The doll's plaid red dress was nearly in tact, as the off-white apron attached to its front caught most of the dirt it had been subjected to.

"Did you want to take her with you, Hope?" Maddy suggested. "You can if you want to."

Hope shook her head. One last time she hugged the doll, then placed it in Maddy's hands. "Take it wid you to Boston Miss Maddy? 

Hope saw the confusion in Maddy's eyes and giggled. "Maybe another girl will love it as much as I do. Ya said ya was gonna help lots of kids. Ya need all da toys ya can get," she pointed out and held her head high, figuring she had just performed a good deed. Maddy had always told Hope how hard Blaze worked so that her child would have a warm place to stay, and even though Hope was still very young, she was beginning to understand words like sacrifice and giving. For once, Hope wanted to show her mother that she could give something up too.

"That's very generous of you, Hope," Maddy smiled proudly. "I'll find a special girl to play with your doll."

Hearing the grandfather clock chime twelve o'clock, Blaze stood from the floor and gathered Hope in her arms. "I think we best get goin' sweetie. It's a long walk back, and there's a lot to do when we get there."

"Hope, get your knapsack from upstairs," Maddy instructed. "Everything should be packed."

They watched as Hope ran up the stairs one last time and smiled as she carefully trudged back down, pulling her knapsack along behind her as she approached them again.

Pouting, Hope looked to Maddy, then back to her mother. It was beginning to set in that she wouldn't be going back to play with the children in the living room, but Hope didn't realize that this might be the last time she ever saw Maddy.

"Well, don't be letting her go without a proper goodbye," Maddy smiled, taking Hope from Blaze's arms and hugging her close. After what seemed like much too short of a time, Maddy set her down, patting her back gently. "Go on, you and your mother have much to do."

"You will write ta me, won't ya?" Blaze asked. "I want to know all about Boston."

Laughing, Maddy nodded as she walked them to the door. "I will. I'll send word as soon as I arrive, and you must promise to write me back. I want Hope to write too. It's in your hands now to teach her how."

"Aye, it is, and I will. She'll be writin' and readin' better than I ever could, you'll see," Blaze smiled. Taking Hope's tiny hand, Blaze opened the door, hearing it groan one last time.

"Do take care, and a word of advice, stuff the child full of candy just once so you know what you've put me through!" Maddy called as Blaze and Hope descended the steps.

"I want candy," Hope stated, an optimistic smile on her face.

"Maybe later," Blaze replied, shooting a slight glare at Maddy before she began the trek home.

~~

Holding his head in his hands, Mush grabbed at his curly brown hair, the idea that Jack had lied about his name and his parents too much for him to comprehend. He pressed his elbows into the table at Tibby's, thoughts of jail and courtrooms plaguing his mind. _Why… why didn't he tell us? He's our leader! Why would he keep dis from us?_

Rubbing his glasses on his undershirt, Specs looked over to Mush and shook his head. _Because even he couldn't foresee the power a secret could hold. Do ya think we'd find out like dis? Standin' in da courtroom, listenin' to Snyder list off his parents like dey was nothin' but bothers ta society, he along wid 'em? It haunted him – it wouldn't go away. He ran and ran, but it caught up ta him. Secrets do that, and dat's why, me friend, ya either keep 'em well hidden, or run like hell ta avoid 'em._


	6. Sacrifice

Chapter 6

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Sacrifice

"Waitress! _Waitress!_ Bring us more napkins will ya? Dumbass over here spilled his drink!"

Lunchtime at Tibby's was anything but civilized. Noisy patrons of the limited establishment crammed into the small wooden seats, each longing for just another inch of elbow room while they stuffed their faces full of inexpensive food. Far from a classy eatery, Tibby's catered to those who were fortunate to have a few extra cents in their pockets and craved something besides a meal at home. The tables were scratched, silverware dull, and the lighting was dim, not for effect, but because the tall buildings surrounding the restaurant stole most of the sun's rays.

"Waitress!"

Sighing, Firecracker plucked the withered blue ribbon from her clenched teeth and finished tying up her long, curly-red hair. Reluctantly she strode over to the rowdy table, placing the requested napkins by the spill.

"Say, why don't we let her clean it up?" one gruff man snorted.

"You made da mess, you clean it up," the other replied.

"It's, it's okay. I can clean it up," Firecracker stated meekly, adverting her brown eyes as she began to soak up the spilled soda.

"See, told ya sweetcheeks wouldn't mind," the first grinned slyly.

_Is dis really what I wanted ta do wid meself?_ Fire asked herself that question everyday, and at least twice just during lunch hour. She had come to the city looking for adventure and a new, exciting life, but instead she had found discouragement. The city wasn't anything like she had pictured in her dreams each night – a city full of abundant job opportunities and exhilarating adventure around every corner. Chances of being shot or mugged were more bountiful than those of having a promising career.

Firecracker had sacrificed the life she knew all too well for the unfamiliarity of the city. Time and time again she told herself that this was what she wanted, just for once to be completely free of everything, and to be her own person. But this freedom she thought of so highly came at a price she hadn't known the consequences of. Having left her family in New Jersey, she was penniless and her family had disowned her for leaving in such a tiff. She wasn't welcome at home anymore – she couldn't go back, despite how bad things were here.

When finally out on her own, the deep reality set in – she was homesick. It wasn't the kind of homesick where a person would take the first train home, but the kind where little things would remind her of what she used to have. If she saw a candy store, she was reminded of the times her father used to give her a penny to run down to the corner store and pick up her favorite treat. If she saw a dress shop, she was reminded of how much her little sister wanted to design clothing one day.

"Waitress! How long is me food gonna take?"

Stuffing her hands in the front pockets of her dark blue skirt, Firecracker took a deep breath and plastered on the smile her boss made sure to check for. This was her life now, and she was going to save every penny she earned for the day she could finally throw her apron down and walk out of here to a better life. _Tomorrow will be bettah_.

Sacrifice was one of the highlighted words in a working child's dictionary. Some sacrificed their pride in whorehouses because they thought it was the only way to have a hot meal and a place to sleep. Others sacrificed their health by working in some of the worst factories imaginable, the soot alone slowly deteriorating their insides. Still more sacrificed their only possessions, giving up their last memory of home to another child in exchange for a few cents to buy a meal for their famished bodies. There wasn't one street in New York that didn't hold a tale of sacrifice.

****

"I don't know where he could be… He said he just had ta pick up somethin'," Jack explained, tapping his fingers on the table.

"It's really all right," Autumn assured him. "It's just… I'll have ta be getting back to the factory soon. I ain't supposed ta really be out dis long anyhow."

"I know he wanted ta be here," Jack sighed. He knew how disappointed David was going to be and had to think of a way to meet up again. "I know… What might ya be doin' later?"

"Well, I work until six, then usually I just go home wid da goils," Autumn answered. She nervously played with her long braid of hair, wondering why Jack insisted on having David around. She had the impression Jack was the one interested in her and it seemed rather mysterious that Jack would want to court her in front of David. _Maybe David has ta approve of who he dates or somethin'._

"We could meet ya at yer place," he suggested. "I mean, dat way you'd have familiar faces around whom I'm sure will wanna keep an eye out for ya."

Hesitant to accept, Autumn finally decided that it wouldn't hurt to finally have a gentleman caller, and smiled. "I suppose that would be alright. Come around seven? It's a couple blocks from here, over on Moore and Greenwich. The girls' boardin' house is on da corner."

"Great," Jack grinned. "Seven it is." Sliding out from the booth, Jack took Autumn's hand and helped her stand.

"Thanks for lunch. It was real nice of ya." She glanced at the clock on the wall and gasped. "I'm gonna be late. Um, thanks again." Leaning towards Jack, she kissed his cheek and turned to leave before she could witness his reaction.

Jack stood there, quite shocked, and raised a hand to his cheek. Maybe she was just being nice because he had paid for her lunch, or maybe Autumn wasn't interested in David, and this was her way of telling him that. But, how did Jack tell David this? Or did he even have to? His mind was racing so fast that Jack hardly noticed David walking towards him.

"Jack! Jack I'm sorry I'm so late. Mother had me doing chores, then I went to pick up flowers for Autumn and the vendor kept accusing me of wanting to steal instead of buy," he sighed. "Where is she? Is she not here yet? I didn't miss her did I?" he asked, hope shining in his eyes.

"Oh, Davey, I waited here… but she didn't show up. Sorry," Jack frowned. _It's better dis way. He won't be so disappointed. If he knew she liked me den he'd be even more bummed. 'Sides, Autumn's real nice. I'll just go up dere later and talk ta her._

"She never came?" Sighing, David dropped the flowers on the table and sunk into the booth. "I told you this would happen," he grumbled.

"Don't worry Dave, we'll see her again."

****

"Hope? _Hope!_ Come on Hope we gotta get home!" Blaze called as she raced after her child. They had stopped at Central Park, Blaze thinking she could sit for a moment, and Hope deciding she would run around for a bit, much to Blaze's dismay.

Darting through the trees, Hope was providing quite a chase for her mother. As Hope had shed her knapsack and her mother was toting it along, the child was beginning to lengthen the lead she had as she ducked past pedestrians and cornered around benches and trash cans.

Giggling, Hope continued running, paying no heed to anyone in her path. Finally, after having turned her head around at the wrong moment, Hope's luck ran out, and she collided with another figure, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

"Hey!" gasped the stranger as he seized his walking stick from the ground before his eyes darted around to see who his attacker was.

Sniffling, Hope sat in the cool grass and rubbed her elbow, which she had fallen on. She twisted her head in every direction as she sought out her mother, but was unable to find her.

The boy's angry demeanor diminished instantly the moment he set eyes on the young child. He had been off in his own world, imagining a duel against a formidable opponent with his trusty walking stick, when all the sudden he was caught off guard by a four-year old.

"Hey, kid, you okay?" he asked softly as he crept towards the girl.

Hope merely shook her head, her blonde curls covering her face in a tousled mess. She could see the boy coming closer and immediately started to back away.

"It's okay… I ain't gonna hoit ya. Is yer arm alright?" the boy asked, staying still until she signaled that it was all right for him to advance again.

"I'm okay," Hope stated as she began to stand up. Once again her eyes searched the park for her mother. She turned back to the boy who had also stood and her eyes caught sight of his walking stick. "Whatcha got dat fer?"

Looking down at his walking stick, the boy smiled proudly. "Dis? Why, dis is me sword."

"Sword?" Hope interrupted. "Looks like a piece of wood ta me."

Shaking his head, the boy frowned. "No, no, dis is much better den just a piece of wood."

"How so?" Hope questioned, interrupting him again.

"Because, it can help me walk when I get tired, or point out stuff in da distance, or it can be a great sword ta help me defend meself against me enemies," he beamed, pushing his shiny black hair away from his face. 

"Defend yerself? From what en… enmies?" Hope asked, her eyes filling with curiosity. By this time she had forgotten about her bruised elbow and was much more set on learning about this sword of his.

"Why, from dat tree ovah dere," he pointed. "Or dat bench! It's lookin' at us awful strange."

Hope giggled. "Da bench? It can't hoit you!"

"It could!" he protested. "Say, why don't you give fencin' a try?" he suggested. "Ya can use me sword if ya want."

"Okay!" Hope smiled.

"Hope! Hope I was so worried!" Blaze fell to her knees by her daughter and threw her arms around the child. "Are you okay? Why did you run off like that? You had me so scared."

"It's okay! Dis boy's is gonna show me how ta fence! Can I? Please, can I?"

"What boy?" Blaze asked. She hadn't even noticed anyone else around them. As soon as she had finally set eyes on her daughter, Blaze had rushed over as fast as she could.

"Dis boy," he stated, smiling at the two. "Name's Bumlets."

"Oh, hi… I'm Blaze. Dis is Hope," she replied.

"Well, hello dere Hope," Bumlets greeted and gently shook her tiny hand.

"Hi Bumlets," Hope giggled and turned to her mother. "Can I _please_? Just for a minute?"

"I suppose so… Just, be careful," Blaze agreed. She sat in the grass and watched in wonder as Bumlets showed Hope how to hold the walking stick. It was much too long for her to handle properly, but that didn't stop Hope from trying her hardest.

Bumlets picked up a stray tree branch and fought against her, yelping each time Hope would charge at him. He let the child feel like she was in control the whole time and put on quite a performance. Blaze marveled at the sparkle in his deep brown eyes when Hope finally tackled him to the ground and tickled him mercilessly.

"Do you always 'fence' in da park alone?" Blaze asked with the hint of a smirk once Hope had finally let Bumlets breathe.

"No, I don't," Bumlets replied indignantly. "Me fencin' partner hasn't shown up yet. We practice tagether." He lightly poked Hope's nose before he helped the child off the ground.

"Oh," Blaze nodded. "Well, thanks again for watchin' out for her. We really should be goin."

"Say, um, do ya think… well, ya might come by da park again sometime?" Bumlets asked as he brushed the dirt from his pants.

"Oh, I don't know… We don't live so close to it…" Blaze felt Hope tug on her hand and looked down at her daughter.

"I want ta play wid da boy again mommy," she smiled.

Blushing, Bumlets scuffed his boots in the grass. "It was silly of me to ask. I thought she was ya sister," he admitted. "Ya must be married to a nice man. I'm sure he'd kill me for askin' such a thing of his wife."

"I'm not married," Blaze replied.

"Oh, um, well, yer boyfriend den," Bumlets stuttered, feeling more embarrassed by the second.

"No… no boyfriend… We women can raise children on our own ya know."

"I-I didn't mean that. I just thought," he sighed and shook his head. "Just someone like you… it just don't seem dat ya wouldn't be taken," he admitted honestly.

"It's alright…" Blaze smiled down at her daughter as she fitted the knapsack around her arms. "We really need to get home."

Clutching his hat in his hands, Bumlets took a deep breath. "So does dis mean dat ya might be free sometime and by chance be in dis park around da same time I am?"

"Maybe," Blaze nodded. "Thanks again for lookin' out for her. Say goodbye Hope."

"Bye Bumlets," Hope pouted and waved to the boy.

"Goodbye Hope," Bumlets smiled. He watched the two resume their journey home and chuckled at the bounce in Hope's steps.

"Why couldn't we stay longer mommy?" Hope asked.

"Because we have to get home, sweetheart," Blaze replied.

"Can we see him again? I wanna fence again!" Hope exclaimed as she hopped up and down.

Blaze sighed. "I don't know. Perhaps, we'll see okay?"

Blaze had learned to distance herself from men. She didn't trust them at all, but still, there was a part of her that felt differently. It wasn't like Blaze didn't want someone around with her, someone to share her love of music, someone to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything was going to be all right, but Blaze was scared – literally petrified of the consequences of getting involved with another man. She had vowed not to get involved with anyone until Hope was much older, and for four years, she had successfully upheld that pledge.

What happened if she trusted a man, and he hurt her daughter? Blaze would never bring that ill fate upon her child. She had seen men lash out at their children before and she'd seen the aftermath. Never would Hope be harmed by a man, and if that meant staying away from men entirely for years to come, so be it. But was it right to keep Hope away from a fatherly figure? Hope had never known her father or anyone that was like a father to her. Maddy was like an aunt to her and as she was single, Hope hadn't had any real contact with an older male.

Despite her attempts to keep men off her mind, Blaze caught herself thinking about the boy from the park. She'd never witnessed anyone play with her daughter like that before. It was as if he liked to make her smile and run around with her, instead of wishing the child would go play quietly in a corner. She struggled with the decision to remain on her own and take care of her child by herself. Would Hope grow up to turn out like her mother or would she not make the same mistakes? 

"Mommy… dis bag is heavy," Hope whined, slowing her pace. She held the knapsack at her side, the bottom of it scraping against the ground.

"Aw, honey, here, let mommy help ya," Blaze smiled. Scooping up Hope and the knapsack in her arms, Blaze kissed the child's forehead. "We're almost home."

~~

_But, if we do this… If we go on strike, how are we gonna eat? Where are we gonna live? I don't know about you, but I ain't got much of a life savings. What if it goes on for weeks? Pulitzer might never back down. Den what?_ Racetrack asked, clutching to his prized pocket watch with one firm hand.

_If we starve today, da woikin kids will eat tomorrow_, Jack stated, pressing his dusty cowboy hat onto his head.

****


	7. Pride

Chapter 7

__

Pride

Everyone needs to feel a certain amount of self-importance – a reason for living each day, or a feeling of self-worth. Pride was so easily thrown about on the city streets, that to actually own a sense of pride was an accomplishment in itself. It was hard to find something to be proud of while working twelve-hour shifts in a dank factory that paid entirely too little. Or while shouting out improved headlines in ragged clothes and bare feet as men in top hats strolled along to their jobs on Wall Street and regarded you with detestable eyes.

When that sense of pride was lost, eyes became vacant, life became worthless, and sometimes an early ending was sought. Children struggled with pride. It was something that parents taught their children, but when those parents were lost at an early age, pride was harder to come to grips with. Who was supposed to teach them how to take pride in themselves and their accomplishments? It was left up to the children to teach each other.

Irish Flare stomped around the stable, flinging the coarse straw in every direction. "Yer outta yer mind! Dat's what ya are! Race, how can ya even think of doin' such a thing?"

Sitting on one of the old stools, Racetrack shrugged his tired shoulders and combed a hand through his dark hair. "What else am I gonna do? I've lost every cent I ever earned. If I take dis one final gamble, if I risk da only thing I have left, I've got dat chance. I could walk away richer den I ever was before."

"Or you could walk away lucky ta still have da clothes on yer damn back," Midnight scoffed, crossing her arms defiantly over her white blouse.

Lifting his head to the sky, Racetrack silently asked why on earth Midnight just had to turn up at the races today. Strategically placing a smirk on his face, Racetrack stood and turned to Midnight, taking her hands in his. "Why, if it ain't me old chum, Middy. How's da newsie life treatin' ya?"

"So old chum is what dey call it dese days?" Irish Flare mumbled. "And here I thought it was old flame. I really need ta get wid da times."

"Can it Irish," Racetrack ordered. "Just keep a lookout for him, would ya?"

Midnight's eyes flared with anger. "Lookout? For what? Who ya watchin' out fer?"

Closing his eyes briefly, Racetrack sighed. He didn't need Midnight poking around in his affairs as well. "Now, now. No need ta get so bent outta shape, Middy."

"Yes dere is," Irish Flare interjected. "Race over here is lookin' ta get into da big game taday with Johnny."

"I said keep a lookout!" Race barked, his eyes blazing in Irish Flare's direction.

"Right… lookout," Irish Flare mumbled as she rolled her eyes before she turned her back to the arguing pair. Once again peering around the outside of the stables, Irish Flare squinted her ice-blue eyes as the early afternoon sun cascaded into the stall.

Midnight gently squeezed Racetrack's hands in the hopes to get through to the Italian. "Race, ya don't got anythin' left ta yer name besides dat ugly combination of clothin' and yer pocket watch. How are ya gonna make one final bet?"

"Ya just answered yer own question," he replied firmly, his eyes burning right into hers.

"You really have gone loony." Shaking her head, Midnight pulled her hands from his. She had never seen his eyes like that before. There was something deeper in them, some sort of fire. He was so set on doing this, there was no way anyone could talk him out of it – even if it meant he would lose his sacred possession and his dignity in one afternoon. Midnight didn't understand why Racetrack would do this to himself, but she knew no one could stop him. She was so used to figuring out people's minds, but this was beyond even her capability… and it frightened her.

Racetrack rummaged his pocket for a half-smoked cigar and lit a match. "Me luck is gonna change, you'll see." _It has to._ He had lost all of his earnings and was already selling papers from dawn until dusk, but today that was going to change. All his fellow betters knew how many times he had lost. They were a close group, each keeping score of one another, not so much in friendly jest, but to keep track of whom was on top, who was to beat for the day, and who was down on their luck. Racetrack had been down on the bottom of that scorecard for far too long, but he aimed to change that, and if it took betting one of the belongings he held sacred, then he would do it.

"Well, let's hope so," Irish Flare mumbled. "Here he comes," she announced. "And he's got a big group dis time."

Midnight's dark brown eyes softened as she stared into Race's once more. "Race, don't do this. Quit while ya still got somethin'."

Racetrack shook his head. "I've made up me mind. Now I gotta go through wid it." He turned his back to Midnight and walked over to Irish Flare. Outside the stable he could see Johnny, the boy who ran all undisclosed betting operations, and his followers. Today really was going to be a big game.

Irish Flare sighed. "Ya know, I'm supposed ta help keep you _out_ of trouble… not get you in it."

"You know I gotta do this," Racetrack affirmed.

"Yeah, I know." Irish Flare pulled her raven-black hair from its bun, letting it flow freely down her back. "Well, get goin'… Dey don't wait for nobody."

Nodding, Racetrack patted Irish Flare on the shoulder once before turning to leave the stables. His face fell when he noticed Midnight had already left, but he pushed the thought from his mind. Right now winning back some of the money he had gambled away had to come first.

~~

Midnight cared deeply for Racetrack. They had been involved at one point, but Midnight had broken it off. She wasn't used to letting a boy get so close to her – especially one she really cared for. She had to maintain an emotional distance from him, and when things got to the point where she felt she couldn't do that any longer, she had let him go, explaining that a friendship would be best. 

She didn't entirely leave him that afternoon, but she couldn't watch as he walked off to join the legion of boys that were ready to gamble away prized possessions. Midnight took a long walk around the tracks, waiting, and hoping that Racetrack would come out on top today. Later as she saw the boys leaving for the day, some in high spirits, and others hanging their heads, Midnight reluctantly watched as Racetrack exited the building, the familiar chain of his pocket watch missing from his vest.

Angered that he would have taken this gamble in the first place, Midnight stormed over to him. "I told you, didn't I? But you didn't listen, you just _had_ to bet again!"

"Ya don't understand, Middy, ya just don't!" Racetrack bellowed.

Midnight flailed her arms in anger, her dark brown hair following her perturbed movements in a hectic frenzy. "What? _I_ don't understand? Ya know what Higgins? Yer right, I don't. I don't understand why you bet da only money you got on horses dat race around in a circle for a few minutes. I don't understand why you insist on walking to Sheepshead nearly everyday of yer life thinkin' dat dis will be the day ya got a 'hot tip'. I don't understand why you thought dat bettin' da last great thing you own would help ya get yer pride back! Now where are ya, huh? Ya lost everythin'! Ya lost yer last cent and ya lost dat damn pocket watch! Now what happens?"

Racetrack reached for the pocket watch that wasn't there, and quickly placed the empty hand in his pocket. "Now I walk home wid me head held high, cause I didn't back away from dat game. I didn't hide in some damn corner wid da rest of da pansies who didn't wanna play for high stakes. It don't matter dat I lost. I _played_. I took da risk, and dey respect me for it," Racetrack stated. "Ya can't buy dat kinda respect. It's gotta be earned, and I earned it. And tomorrow when I go back to dose tracks, I'll earn even more respect when I play again. And dis time, I'll get me damn watch back."

"Yer nuts, Higgins, real crazy in da head, ya know dat?!" Midnight shouted at the top of her lungs.

Smiling, Racetrack turned back and nodded to her. Lighting his cigar, Racetrack pointed to her while he spoke. "Yes I am, and damn proud of it."

~~

Skittery vehemently shook his head, pacing back and forth on the creaky wooden floor. Jack had returned, things seemed back to normal, or were they? Could they honestly defeat the likes of Pulitzer? _Yer just a street rat! Don't you see? We're all street rats! We ain't got nothin' but da clothes on our backs. Heck, some of us don't even have shoes! How are we gonna finish dis?!_

_Who needs shoes when we got pride in our hearts and fires in our bellies. We'll beat 'em, you'll see. It don't take some smart-assed rich man to beat dose newspaper giants. It takes guts. It takes a group like us. A ragged army like Denton says. We outta be stormin' his doors, chantin' strike, and nevah givin' up. We're just as important as all dose rich snobs out dere. And we're gonna show dem what real New York pride is,_ Jack smiled, a new, bigger flame burning within him. He was in this for the long run. He would see to it that his boys got what they deserved. Never would thoughts of abandonment haunt him again. This was his life - the newsies were his life.

****


	8. Strength

Chapter 8

__

Strength

Strength was about having the courage to continue on each day. Were you strong enough to get out of bed, walk miles to work, and put in twelve hours in a place that paid horrible, where you were treated with no respect, and had no chance of advancement? Strength didn't just come in the physical form, but the mental form as well. It was the ability to overcome obstructions in your path by persevering. Were you strong enough to handle it? Could it be possible to continue to work even when your feet were blistered so badly that you stripped the boots from your feet just so the pain was more bearable? It was to those who could that had the strength to keep going.

The children's hands provided a map to the history of their work. Ink stains from newspapers, soot from the factories, calluses from sewing, cuts from any various backbreaking jobs – veins of hard work, love, family, and friendship ran through their palms.

In the depths of downtown Manhattan, Buttercup Tate, otherwise known to her friends as BC, worked in a hand-laundry facility. The labor was immense, yet the pay was miniscule, and BC was accustomed to it. Sporting her favorite light green dress and dusty, old black boots, BC pushed up the worn fabric of her sleeves before tying up her straight, dark brown hair. It was this part of the day that was the hardest on her. The early afternoon was when she felt most drained, yet she still had hours of work left to do.

The humidity of the outside world clashed with laundry shop, creating an incredibly uncomfortable working environment. But when her feet ached and her back was bruised, BC staggered on. If she was to get anywhere in her life, she needed to continue working here. The best way to get through another workday was to not think about the amount of hours left or the newest cut on her hand. She thought about the future, or how tonight she was going to celebrate a birthday with her friends, or how tomorrow she had planned to go to Brooklyn and swim at the docks.

"C'mon BC, back ta woik," grumbled the owner as he watched her stretch out her back.

"Yes sir," BC answered, a small smile spreading across her features. As she started to clean yet another piece of laundry, BC thought about the hours outside of work, and the friends that would be there tonight to keep her company.

****

"Busy, how nice of you to join us." Medda tapped her pink boot on the floor as she looked at Busy sternly. With a brush in one hand and a chunk of her wild red hair in the other, Medda was amidst her daily ritual of taming her locks, and everyone knew that was the worst time to dampen her mood.

Smoothing her light brown hair, Busy Body let her blue eyes trail to the ground. "Sorry I'm a little late."

"It's alright. Just don't let it become a permanent thing or I'll dock it from ya pay," she warned, cursing under her breath as another curl stubbornly stuck itself in her comb.

"Yes ma'am," Busy nodded. Before Medda could instruct her where to go, Busy had already joined the small group of practicing girls on stage.

The girls weren't all extremely gifted, by any means, but the four each brought something different to Irving Hall, and to Medda's performances. There was the saucy one, the voluptuous one, the ditzy one, and then there was Busy, whom they had all brandished jealously as the talented one.

Medda knew, just as everyone else in Irving Hall hall, that Busy had the ability to become a wonderful dancer, but she lacked the know-how of the business world. She could dance and sing her heart out, but that was all she knew. Busy didn't know how to negotiate a contract or win the admiration of the dance hall owners. She wasn't refined enough to win the hearts of another dance company. Her quick tongue had cost her jobs in the past, and Medda was one of the only employers that would overlook her occasional snide comments. Busy refused to flirt with an owner to get a place on the stage – it was beneath her, and she wouldn't cave in just for a job.

For that reason, Busy remained at Irving Hall, playing second fiddle to Medda Larkson, the star and owner of the building. While Medda made sure she was kept the headliner of the show, Busy didn't notice that she went overlooked, just because Medda was top billed. Other club owners didn't recognize the background dancers. The spotlight was always on Medda, and it would be for as long as the 'Swedish Meadowlark' centered herself on that stage.

"Busy, now what is _that_? Do what we've been practicin'!" Medda bellowed from the front row of seats.

"Some people call it ballet," Busy snapped, her voice echoing off the dark walls.

"Well, I call it the wrong dance," Medda retorted. "From the top girls! We're doing this number for the first time tonight and I will not have it less than perfect."

~~

It was half an hour before show time, and after hours of practice, the girls all sat in the dressing room, nursing their aching feet and muscles. Busy stood in one corner, stretching her back, making herself as limber as possible, as the other three sat near the mirror, adjusting their makeup and discussing the handsome men that might show up at the venue tonight.

"Fools," Busy muttered under her breath. She adjusted the eccentric purple dress that Medda ordered them all to wear and pressed a hand against the cold wall to sturdy herself as she stretched her legs. _More concerned about gentleman callers than the performance itself._

Busy paid no heed to the other side of dancing at Irving Hall. The owner didn't set a limit to how far the girls could go with the gentlemen in the audience, as sometimes the money was too good to pass up. But Busy wasn't interested in making any money on the side. She loathed having men ogle her, but she could at least ignore it while she was dancing. Once up on that stage, nothing mattered but the rhythms in the music and the spark in her step.

Off stage, while the others flirted and extended their business, Busy strutted confidently to the dressing room, where, as after every performance, she envisioned it again in her mind, going over her steps, figuring out what could have been done better, or with more flare. She never stopped dancing, whether it was on the stage, or in her mind.

"Ready girls? Twenty minutes until we're on. Busy, I want you to be _on_ your mark this time, not five feet from it."

_I'm always on my mark. You're the one who's off._ Busy nodded. "Yes ma'am, I know." _Her mark changes every performance for goodness sakes._

"Medda, when are we gonna do solos?" Busy inquired. She'd asked the same question every practice, and before every performance. Medda had promised them solos weeks ago, saying that eventually they too would get their chance in the limelight, but the day had yet to come.

"When we get these numbers right," Medda answered. "Then we'll see. Now warm up. It's almost time." With that she left the room to begin greeting the important customers before the show started.

Sighing, Busy went back to stretching, her hopes crushed once more. Opportunities were hard to come by in this business, and if Medda kept putting off Busy's chance for a solo, she didn't know if she'd ever make it above a dive like Irving Hall.

"Why are ya even botherin' her wid such nonsense?" one of the girls muttered. "She ain't gonna give ya a solo."

"It ain't nonsense ta me," Busy mumbled. _One 'a dese days, I'll have me solo._

Busy knew that her day would eventually come. She wouldn't show the others how it hurt to go overlooked, she was stronger than that. A hardened shell was a necessity in such a vast city. Children came here with soft exteriors, and even softer interiors, but found that not only did they have to change their way of life, but their priorities, and in some cases, their morals. When the choice between starving to death or pilfering a piece of fruit from a food stand, the latter usually took precedence.

~~~~

_I can't… I don't got it in me no more, can't ya see dat!_ Itey screamed, his arms covering his matted black hair as he curled up on his bunk. _I ain't strong enough! I ain't!_

Jack sat down beside Itey, and grabbed his arms firmly before he spoke. _Listen ta me! You are plenty strong enough! Don't feed me dat crap! And tomorroah, yer gonna get up, just like da rest of us, and face dose cowards! 'Cause dat's what dey are, cowards! Damn scabs don't know nothin' but listenin' to Pulitzer. All dey know is how ta follow, but dey don't know how ta lead! Yer stronger den dey are. Yer standin' up for what ya believe in! And tomorrah, yer gonna stand up again._

****


	9. Truth

Chapter 9

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Truth

"Wish, I am goin' down to da corner, where I will do what I do everyday, and nothin' you tell me is gonna change that!" Blizzard spat, her steel blue eyes cutting through Wish's determined brown ones. Standing at four inches taller than Blizzard, Wish stared her down, hoping that for once, Blizzard might listen.

Every night after work at the factory, Blizzard wouldn't immediately return to the boarding house. Instead, she had come up with a way to earn more money, by performing in the street by either doing card tricks, singing, or physical feats until her feet finally begged for rest. "Why don't you come home for a change, instead of standin' out dere while most of da people just pass ya up? Don't ya remember what happened last night, and da night before? Why are you so set on doin' this?" Wish demanded.

Blizzard looked away from Wish, her eyes spying a bench to where she decided to take refuge for a few minutes. "I don't care about that. It's a living, despite what happens." The night before, several men had tried to pick her up, assuming she was a prostitute, then the night before that, one drunk had thrown his empty beer bottle towards her, causing the crowd to break out in laughter as she chased him.

Placing her hands in her lap, Blizzard prepared for Wish to combat her thoughts. She ran her hands over the dirty fabric of her dark green skirt, then proceeded to straighten her peach-colored cummerbund as Wish sat down beside her.

"Look, Blizzard, dere has got to be another way ta make extra money besides subjectin' yerself to dis every night. What about workin' extra hours at da factory? Or… or even sellin' papes at night?" Wish suggested.

This was what Wish was used to – being the mother figure. In her small circle of friends, Wish was known for coaxing the girls towards the right path. True, at times, she wasn't as coaxing as she was pushy, especially since she had a rather loud mouth, but the girls respected her attitude. She had helped them out of some tricky situations before.

"I ain't _subjectin'_ meself to nothin'," Blizzard stated indignantly. "Haven't you ever wanted to do somethin', even if it wasn't on da best of toims? I know it ain't da best of livings, but dat don't mean I want to stop! I got more money in me pocket dis way. I can afford to go to a restaurant more den once a month. I can help out friends by lendin' 'em money if dey's short. Dis ain't a bad thing."

"You could have money in your pockets other ways too," Wish replied. "You could make just as much peddlin' papes. Ya could even sell wid some of da boys from Lower Manhattan at night."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Blizzard sat for a moment, holding her tongue. In her opinion, Wish always did what was safe, what was condoned behavior. Blizzard felt that she wasn't living life, she was letting life take over, letting it pave her path, instead of Wish paving her own. Blizzard wasn't about to let life do the same to her, despite her choice of professions. She didn't care about what was safe or right in other people's minds. This was her life.

"I ain't gonna go changin' me job just because of a couple mishaps," Blizzard settled. She placed her hands on her knees, standing up quickly from the bench before she began walking towards her corner.

"Blizzard, wait," Wish called out softly, hoping there was still an opportunity to talk to her.

"No, Wish, no!" Blizzard affirmed. She turned back to Wish, arms defiantly at her sides. "I ain't gonna sit back and be safe all da time. I ain't always gonna make da decisions dat everybody else thinks is right. Dis is _my_ life. I'll live it da way I want to. I won't live in some cage like you do! I won't! I won't be as unhappy as you are sometimes, tellin' us all what to do, savin' our souls while yours sits dere, doing nothin'. Yer unhappy, whether ya admit it or not, and I won't be like that! I'll make my mistakes, and own up to dem, but I won't… not now, not ever, sit around and let life pass me by. _Never_."

Blizzard turned her back to Wish, her hand flying to her mouth as she walked away. She hadn't meant to be so straightforward, so honest about her feelings, but it was the truth. She had felt like that about Wish for a long time. She respected her, of course, just like the other girls, but she didn't look up to the way she sat idly by while the rest of the girls lived life.

Wish lowered her head, tears stinging in her eyes. None of the girls had ever told her something like that before. None had ever annunciated what Wish already felt in her being. Did they all feel like that? Were they all just waiting for a way to tell her? She curled into herself on the bench, sighing as she looked at her clothes. They were just another reminder of how she lived her life – all clad in black so she wouldn't be noticed, so she would blend in. She would have to return to that boarding house and face her friends, all of which probably had some notions about her that they had never voiced. Could she live there with such knowledge? Perhaps it was time she looked to her friends to help her for a change.

The truth scared Wish, just as it scared the other girls she lived with; truth of their living situations, truth of families left behind, and the truth of knowing just how hard life was for them. Sometimes the truth had a positive side, like the truth of the girls' abilities and talents, but recently truth went ignored. No one wanted to face the reality of their situations. It was easier to lie to each other, to imagine a world where the truth was always a wondrous thing, and never painful.

****

Blaze sat in the bunkroom, tears rolling down her cheeks, her eyes noticeably red from crying. How was she supposed to explain to her daughter that she wasn't planned, that she was an accident? Could she ever utter those words? Hope was one of the best accidents to happen to Blaze, but what words would the child choose to hear - that she was still loved, no matter how she came to be, or that she was a mishap and that her father wanted nothing to do with her?

Even worse were her thoughts that the other girls might treat her differently once they come home and notice a small addition to the house. She had learned to live with her decision by herself, but having others know about prior work habits might be too much. Would they come to their own conclusions, or would they pry until Blaze told them what happened? She would have to leave out as much information as possible, and perhaps it was better to lie to the girls. The truth could hurt her and Hope, especially if the girls found out what really happened before even Hope knew.

"Mommy?"

Startled, Blaze looked down at her daughter and tried to form a smile. "Yes sweetie?"

"Why are ya cryin'?"

"Oh… I was just… thinkin' bout someone. I'm fine." Blaze wiped her eyes on her sleeve and pulled Hope onto her lap. "And what have ya been up to?" she asked, hurrying to change the subject.

"Nothin'," Hope shrugged, a small, devious smile on her lips.

"That nothin' sure looks like somethin' ta me," Blaze stated.

"I was just lookin' around da place," Hope answered. "All your friends live here?"

Blaze nodded. "Yep, we all share dis place. I bet they'll be comin' home soon so you can meet dem all too."

"Am I gonna like 'em?"

"I think da question is… are dey gonna like you," Blaze whispered and slipped her arms around Hope, hugging her closely.

****

Skittery hadn't returned to the lodging house that night. He felt defeated, rejected, and hurt. He had blown off his usual fencing activities with Bumlets and instead had wandered the Manhattan streets, trying to get his mind off of Filly and how she had run from him. Instead, it was all he could think about. What had he done wrong?

Filly's mind was filled with thoughts of how to tell Skittery something she had never told anyone in the past. She prided herself on keeping her life out of the gossip at the boarding house. The girls talked about others, but not her – Filly wouldn't open herself up to the girls, and in turn they had nothing to gossip about, except for the lack of actual gossip in the first place. They never heard much about Skittery or her brother. Nor did they know about her past. To the boarding house, Filly was an inhabitant, but not a gossip topic.

True, some had gone ahead and made up rumors, but because of the kind of person Filly was, any gossip was quickly shot down by the other girls - they'd much rather hear about the latest news on Medda from Busy Body, or about the tumultuous relationship between Fade and Spot.

"Oomph, hey!" Filly mustered as she stumbled backwards after running into someone.

"Hey yaself," the figure called back, obviously perturbed.

"You bumped inta me," Filly protested.

"I did not…" Skittery looked up to see who was fighting with him, and stopped in his tracks. _What is she doin' here?_ "Well, Filly. I best be goin', don't wanna get in yer way."

Surprised to see Skittery, and rather nervous to talk to him right away, Filly knew what she needed to do. "No! Wait… Skitts… I need ta talk to you."

"About what? How you ran out on me and we'se through? I thought we covered dat pretty nicely last time," he muttered, glaring at whatever happened to be in the path of his eyesight.

"Please, just lemme talk to you," Filly pleaded. She wasn't used to petitioning her case to anyone. Usually she would have let him go, cursing him under her breath as he walked away – but this time, she couldn't let that happen.

"The truth is… I'm… well, I'm scared, Skittery."

"Scared of what?" he snapped back, visibly hurt.

"I'm scared of what will happen."

"What will happen?" he repeated. "How could you be scared of… of this… of _me_? I've never, ever felt like dis before. I had a hell of a time tellin' ya! I didn't wanna tell ya until I was so sure of it, and I was. I was so sure dat you were da one I loved… dat you were da one I wanted to share me life with. I ain't ever told people da things ya know. I ain't never wanted to tell no one what ya know… but I guess I made a mistake…"

Filly shook her head, her thick, brown hair scattering across her tan face. "No! You didn't make a mistake!" she cried, her hand reaching out to grab his arm. "I-I made the mistake of runnin' away," she whispered softly, her eyes focusing on the cobblestones beneath them. "I was scared of getting hurt… I don't want to admit to lovin' someone only to have them leave me later… If that happens, I guess I thought, why love in da first place? I'm scared of how much I want to be with you, Skittery. I don't… _I don't know how to control love once I set it free inside._ I'm afraid I won't be able to control myself, or my actions. I didn't want that burden."

"Is that what I am? Some sort of _burden _to you?" Skittery asked, gently freeing himself from her hold. He wouldn't have her besmirch him twice. If she were to leave again, he'd be sure to be the one who turned his back first.

"Dat's not it at all! Dat's just what I thought… at first… I thought this would be so hard. It would be a burden on both of us. I thought we would end up getting hurt. But, I realize dat taking chances comes wid life, and dis is one chance… Well, dis is one chance dat I want to take. I know you love me. I want to love you like I know I already do. I don't want to run anymore. I wanna show you dat I _do_ love you."

His eyes growing softer, Skittery let his hand reach out, taking hers gently in his grasp. "Dis is pretty damn hard for you to say, ain't it?" he asked, smiling slightly.

"Bloody hell it is!" Filly agreed. "So, can we stop dis talk and take a stroll 'round town?" She locked arms with him and pulled him near, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I love you, Filly," Skittery whispered.

"I love you too," she answered – for the first time, those words coming easier than she thought they ever would.

****

"_Auty_ has a date tanight? No, ya gotta be kiddin' me!" Moneybags cried, shaking her dark brown hair back and forth.

"I don't believe it!" Satine chimed in, giggling softly, her vibrant, blue-green eyes shining in amusement.

"Shut ya hole," Filly piped up, annoyed at the amount of squabbling in the room. "Some of us woiked hard taday and would like some peace and quiet!"

Rolling her eyes, Autumn turned back to the interested girls. "Yeah, I do gots me a date, and if ya all would be nice enough ta help me out, I just might get ready in time ta actually meet da man."

"So what does he look like, hmm?" Lee Lee asked, her inquisitive nature taking over.

"Like a boy," Autumn answered simply.

"No, really?" Mischief frowned as she plopped down on a nearby bed. "A little more detail is in order."

Autumn shrugged. "He's tall and handsome, and dat's all ya get ta hear," she insisted.

Mischief shook her head. "I think ya just don't wanna tell us 'cause he's uglier den a Delancey," she muttered.

Glaring, Autumn was silent for a few moments. The girls always seemed to want to push one another to the edge, and Mischief was doing a fine job of that tonight. "He's Jack Kelly, leader of da Lower Manhattan Newsies… and far more handsome den any boy _you've_ ever dated," Autumn declared before she could hold back.

A hushed silence came over the crowd of girls as Autumn looked in the mirror once more before leaving the room. As she shut the bunkroom door behind her, all but Mischief burst into laughter. It wasn't everyday that Autumn spoke up, as her shy nature held her back, and everyone except Mischief was glad to witness the day Autumn finally did so.

~~

David had gone home, his homework needing attention, and Jack was left with his conscience. Was this the right thing to do? He had to admit, Autumn was attractive and they had such a pleasant lunch together, but David was the one who really liked her, and Jack had done this all for David, not for himself.

On the other hand, David wouldn't find out, would he? They would be blocks from both the lodging house and the Jacobs' apartment and he didn't want to stand the girl up. This would be better in the long run anyhow. Autumn wasn't interested in David, so Jack thought, and Jack could find someone to keep David occupied tomorrow, that would make him forget all about Autumn. The pros outweighing the cons in his mind, Jack strutted towards the girls' boarding house.

~~

Autumn was waiting by the front door, straightening her dress for the hundredth time. She was so anxious that she had to keep herself from standing outside. She kept telling herself that looking too eager wouldn't be the best idea. As she heard a knock at the front door, she nearly ran in the opposite direction, nervousness overcoming her features.

The only thought that helped her towards the door was the look on Mischief's face earlier that night. For once it was Autumn going out for the night, and she wanted to show the girls that she had the courage to do this.

Fiddling with the handle, Autumn opened the door and couldn't help but smile. Jack stood there, flowers in hand, and a small grin on his own face.

"Evenin' miss," he greeted. "I thought dese flowers would be a welcome addition to your attire, but seein' as how ya look gorgeous, I fear I picked dese in vain. I don't believe ya need any flowers at all, 'cept dat I could show dese flowers what real beauty is, just by lookin' at ya." It was Kid Blink's line, but it was one of the best he had ever come up with and Jack wasn't about to waste it.

Giggling, Autumn took the flowers from his hand and kissed his cheek. "Thank-you."

Jack bowed slightly. "Yer welcome. I was thinkin' we could go to dis restaurant I know down the street. It ain't too far away. What do ya say?"

Autumn smiled and nodded her approval, and the two headed for the restaurant. Light conversation filled the air on the way, Jack and Autumn both struggling to find topics to talk about freely.

As they arrived, Jack opened the door for Autumn and followed her inside, but once he searched the restaurant for a place to sit, his face dropped in sheer disbelief.

"Jack?"

"Davey?"

~~~~

_Ya gonna tell us da truth, or ya gonna let us sit here like idiots wonderin' what happened ta ya?_

Relinquishing his 'scabber' ways, Jack was once again a Newsie, but convincing the others that he was here to stay was more than a bit difficult. Heaving a sigh, he began to open up to his fellow lodgers, letting them into a world where only his mind had traveled before – where his parents still lived in his memory, and boyish thoughts of a better place in Santa Fe filled his hopes.

****


	10. Pain

Chapter 10

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Pain

Did you ever feel pain so deeply inside, that you wished you could take a shovel and dig it out, then toss it far, far away? Did it ever hurt so bad that even though you weren't in any physical pain, your body ached because of it? Pain so bad, that you can't even express it to the one person that knows you better than anyone else. It's just too strong for you to even deal with, and the only outlet you see to stopping that pain, is to become extinct. Some say it's the cowardly way out, but when faced with that situation, where your life has become so bad that all you want to do is crawl into a hole and die, sometimes death seems like the only way to accomplish anything. What if you tried for years to turn things around and it never worked? Could you live with such great pain for all those years? Or could you make it stop right now, right this instant, by just one act? No one should be forced into making such a decision, but these kids faced that exact judgment all too often on the streets.

Estrella sat on the roof, the cool summer night's breeze teasing her long, pale brown hair. The stars above brilliantly lighting the sky, the clouds absent from this particular night. It was like the stars were calling her – showing her a bright path to a new beginning. They twinkled in her eyes, mystifying her senses, and tickling her soul. Everything was all right when she gazed at the universe. Nothing else mattered – not her simple existence, the ragged clothing on her back, nor her famished figure. The stars above in the heavens provided her with a worthy reality – one she wanted to live out. Estrella wanted to be up there with the stars, where they had a real point to living, instead of some mundane vocation. She wanted to be a star that guided someone home, or the star that someone made a wish on, because she had shown brightly first that night. She yearned to have a validity that made her important and noteworthy.

But in her real world, she didn't think of herself as significant. Estrella felt she was just a tiny ant, not big enough to complete considerable tasks, or worthy enough to be noticed. She was just another face in the crowd – going to work each day, striving for one more penny so she could afford to eat and sleep someplace warm. This wasn't how she wanted to live. She felt it better not to breathe one more breath on this earth than have to submit herself to the streets again.

Could she end her life? Could she come to the decision both mentally and physically that it was time to move on from this cruel world? Or was it worth sticking it out? Could she rely on her friends to pull her through?


	11. Pain [Part 2]

Chapter 10 Continued

She thought better of her last question. Friends? What was the true meaning of that word? Tonight Midnight had wrestled herself into Estrella's brain, pressing every button she had, taunting Estrella to think twice about continuing life at the lodging house. Midnight had found things that no one else had about Estrella. She had gone through the depths of her psyche, pried open every door possible, searched through every filing cabinet of information in her brain and figured out a way to manipulate that knowledge while Estrella sat there, paralyzed by the thoughts Midnight had uncovered.

"What friends do I have?" Estrella scoffed lightly. At that moment, she wished that someone was up there with her, telling her she was worth something – begging her to stay here and not leave.

But there was no one there. The only sounds came from the dark streets below – sounds of drunken men laughing, sounds of horse hooves tapping out a gentle melody across the cobblestones, and sounds of police whistles as they broke up another bar brawl.

__

What kind of life is this? Estrella asked herself. Her inner turmoil was almost unbearable now as it screamed in her head. Did she go on living this life, doubting her self-worth, enduring girls like Midnight who didn't know the full damage they had done, or did she end it? _Could_ she end the suffering?

Estrella pushed herself away from the warm chimney and walked to the edge of the roof. The breeze passed through her long locks as she stood closer to the brink, making her shiver. Her eyes closed, Estrella took several deep breaths – the smells of the city intoxicating her. Would she miss this? The scent of the restaurant on the corner filled the air and she smiled wistfully without even realizing it. They had the best apple pie there. Of course, she hardly ever had the money to afford such a luxury, but when she did, Estrella didn't hesitate to buy a piece for herself.

Her eyes fluttering open, Estrella stared out at the city in front of her. Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she pushed them away with the back of her hand. This was what she wanted – to be free of this place. She couldn't back out now. Midnight would find out about her attempt – she would taunt her, tell her that she wasn't strong enough. Estrella couldn't live through that.

Inching her feet closer to the edge, her legs shoulder-length apart and her eyes shut tightly, Estrella started to raise her arms in the air. She needed peace. This was the only way to achieve that. She could finally be a star in the Heavens like she always wanted to be. She would fly away and the pain would leave.

Gasping, Estrella realized she was about to take her last breath and inhaled sharply before she started to lean forward. She let out a meek cry as the wind started to push her faster than she was ready for. Then she felt herself falling… falling… but she didn't fly, instead she abruptly landed on her back.

"Estrella, what the _hell_ are ya doin'!"

"Who…" Estrella muttered and winced. Tears cascaded down her cheeks and she grabbed her pounding head, which had hit the ground during the fall. _Please don't be Midnight…_ was all she could think.

Midnight collapsed next to the sullen figure and gathered Estrella in her arms, the long hair from both girls hiding their shocked faces. Midnight had just pulled Estrella away from her death, and she couldn't get around that horrid thought. Her mind filled with questions – how far had she pushed her earlier?

Neither could speak, Estrella overcome with sobs and Midnight stuck in a stunned silence. She managed to rock Estrella back and forth as they held onto each other in the night, the sounds of the street slowly calming their souls.

~~~~

_Crutchy? _Little Man, one of the smallest boys in the lodging house, climbed up on the couch and leaned his head against Crutchy's shoulder.

_Hiya kid,_ Crutchy smiled, as always.

_Crutchy…_ he hesitated, his fingers fiddling with his shirt. _Does it hurt?_ he asked.

Sighing, Crutchy held his tongue at first, not exactly sure what to say to the boy. Then he nodded. _Yeah, sometimes, but ya gotta take da good wid da bad, right?_ he pointed out.

_Can you fix it?_ he asked, gesturing to Crutchy's leg.

Crutchy shrugged. When he was little, his parents had the option to try a procedure to help his leg, but his father turned it down. It wasn't money that was the issue, but pride – a deep sense of pride that his father had. He wanted to show his son that life wasn't always easy, and thus, Crutchy's leg remained how it was.

_I don't wanna fix it. It's part of who I am,_ Crutchy finally answered.

Curling up beside him, Little Man yawned. _I like who you are._

****


	12. Betrayal [Part 1]

Chapter 11

__

Betrayal

Fade needed to make amends. She had been on both ends of the hurting and she wanted it to stop. In reality, Spot had hurt her more than she had ever hurt him, but in the end, all she wanted was for them to reach some form of agreement. Either they were together, or they were not. Fade couldn't be one of those girls that he fell back on, and she refused to degrade herself in such a manner.

Betrayal was too familiar in her vocabulary, as it was for many of the people she knew. Who could you really trust in life? Many of the kids had been forced to pilfer goods from street vendors just to survive, and the newsies shouted 'improved' headlines all day long. Was lying just too easy for them to do? How could one know when someone was telling the truth, and when one was just there to use information against another? And if one spent the day lying, would they even know the difference of right and wrong later on, or after so many years of the same thing, would they forget? Sure, there were street codes that many lived by, but codes and rules were meant to be broken, and they repeatedly were. Betrayal tore people apart, clawed at their heart, and played with their mind. Once the damage was done, reversing such an act was usually impossible.

Walking towards Brooklyn, the journey always gave her plenty of time to think about her relationship. She was accustomed to walking the route, as Spot hardly agreed to visit her at the boarding house. _I've gotta run Brooklyn!_ was his usual excuse. And she bought it. She was the one going the distance in the relationship – she sacrificed for him, she did what he asked, she adored him. He had made her feel as if she were the queen of New York. But then again, there were those times that he made her feel like a peasant, bound to live just to please him, with no happiness in return.

Images of the afternoon still tormented her mind. A boy from the Lower Manhattan newsies had intrigued her, and after spending a few hours with him, they were in the park, holding hands, and kissing. Part of her knew it was just because Spot had done the same thing to her, but another part wasn't sure if it was because Fade wanted a change. Was Spot really worth all this? Could she see past the times he had hurt her to a future together?

Then there was this new boy she had met. He was filled with a spirit she had never seen before – one of compassion and understanding for things she never knew a boy of his age was capable of. His warm smile made her feel so comfortable around him, even if she had only known him for such a short time. His sandy blonde hair sometimes had reminded her of Spot, but the real difference was in the eyes. Spot's eyes held that gleam about them, but it was hereditary, whereas Kid Blink's eye might have been darker by his ancestry, but they sparkled from within – from his soul. Fade believed Blink was a boy that loved life, even if he might not have been dealt the best hand to play. Spot on the other hand, loved power – he craved it, and that was what made his eyes gleam like they did – reeling in unsuspecting girls who merely thought he was as sincere as they came.

But if she felt like this for Blink, why was she making this trip back to Brooklyn? Why wasn't she in Lower Manhattan, learning more about the mysterious boy that she had run into earlier today? She didn't want to act like Spot. Fade wanted to do the right thing, whether that was breaking up her relationship with Spot, or finally setting some boundaries that he could actually agree upon. She needed to know if Spot really cared for her.

Looking up at the sky as she approached Brooklyn, Fade knew where Spot would be. It was nights like this that she frequently found him at the docks, and Fade figured that tonight would be no different. But in the distance, she saw something that didn't fit the picture painted in her mind.

Spot was supposed to be alone, perhaps even thinking about the wrongs he had done to her. She would go to him, explain what had happened today, how she felt about him, and how much it hurt when he betrayed her. Then things would work themselves out, or so she thought. 


	13. Betrayal [Part 2]

This wasn't the case. Spot was at the docks, but he wasn't alone. Upon further inspection, Fade's pressed her hand to her mouth, hiding a small gasp. He was with another girl, whom she even knew. "Brooky," Fade mumbled.

Pulling apart from the black-haired girl, Spot hurried to compose himself. "Fade! Whatcha doin' here?"

"Doesn't really matter now, does it?" she answered. She's caught him like this before on many occasions, but this time it sunk in deep. Spot wouldn't change – he wouldn't love her and only her. Fade couldn't pretend any longer that their relationship would ever be normal.

"Ya gotta be kiddin' me, Fade," Brooky snorted. "Ya know how Conlon here is, he ain't no one-girl man."

"Fade… I'm… I didn't mean to…" Spot stood, ignoring the perturbed girl he'd just been kissing.

Brooky's words cutting through her like a knife, Fade fought to keep the tears from her eyes. She knew this might have been the end of things, but she didn't want to actually acknowledge that fact. "You didn't mean to be an ass? It's a little late for that, Conlon. If I ever see you again, it'll be too soon."

"Fade, wait." Spot caught a glimpse of her eyes then, and the pain in them affected him in a way he'd never thought possible. This time he really was sorry.

"I've been waitin' for you to change for months. I ain't wastin' anymore of me precious time on you," she spat, her legs already carrying her halfway off the docks. "Goodbye Spot," she whispered to herself. "You ain't good enough for me."

****

"Jack? What… What are ya doing here?" David abruptly stood from his chair, knocking over his glass of water in the process.

"I-I, um, going to dinner?" he meekly answered. Jack hadn't felt this miserable since David had accosted him about turning into a scab.

Autumn stood there puzzled. These two seemed to be best friends when they had approached her the first time, and now David was nearly glaring in Jack's direction.

"I can see that, Jack," David stated wryly. The water dripping down the side of his table, David merely paid attention to the two figures standing before him. He knew Jack had no idea David would be dining here tonight, and although he wanted to believe Jack had brought Autumn to surprise him, David prepared himself for another explanation.

"Jack?" Autumn questioned. "What's going on here?"

Sighing, Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "Dave… I'm really sorry…" Jack knew he had to tell them all the truth, despite the consequences.

"Autumn… well, ya see, David is da one dat really likes ya. I was just tryin' ta help him talk to you, but when we met at da restaurant later and ya got talkin' ta me, I realized I liked you, and it seemed like you liked me too…"

"I can't believe you went behind my back," David frowned. "What kinda best friend are you?" His fingers balled into fists, David looked down at his boots, which were now swimming in a shallow puddle of his spilled water.

"Dave, I'm real sorry, I don't know what came over me. Really, I didn't mean ta do this… I thought…" he sighed. "I dunno what I thought…"

Autumn bit her lip, feeling extremely uneasy with the situation. "So, instead of tellin' me dat David was da one dat liked me, you asked me out for dinner. Nice…" she sighed. "I think I'm gonna let you two have a little talk. Jack, it wasn't nice to meet you. David, you know where I work. Goodnight gentleman."

Autumn shook her head. "How do ya like dat," she mumbled to herself as she closed the restaurant door behind her. "Been single for so long, dat when da time comes around for me ta have a boy, I get two instead." Sighing, Autumn started her journey home.

~~~~

Spot walked the docks up and down, his cane in hand. _Betrayal, boys, is one of the most lethal options any of you can choose._ He stared into the Brooklyn boys' eyes, daring them to blink. _If you betray me, wish for a quick death, or never show your face in Brooklyn again._

The art of betrayal was one of the first things Spot taught his boys. It was a defining factor in the leader's life, and strangely enough, he educated them in the consequences of such an act, but he never sat down and realized the hypocrisy of his ways. Spot blocked out his own betrayals when it came to women, as to him, ignorance of his affairs really did seem like bliss – that was, until the night Spot witnessed his own betrayal in Fade's eyes…


	14. Dreams

Chapter 12

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Dreams

Dreams may appear like they're so far away, but sometimes when you dream of reaching the furthest star in the galaxy, the harder you try, the smaller the universe seems, and the easier it is to reach that star.

The night breeze wandered through the city, enticing its patrons to enjoy the cool weather a bit longer – to stay out a few more minutes before retiring for the evening. Sparsely scattered clouds sat in the sky, allowing stargazers a full view of the starlit canopy above.

Muffled sobs were heard on the roof of the girls' boarding house, but it wasn't just Estrella crying… Midnight had joined her – the two girls venting out pent-up feelings from months ago, and vowing to each other that they would make life worth living.

~~

"Ya gonna get yer watch back?" Irish Flare asked Racetrack as they walked towards Manhattan.

Shrugging, Racetrack stuffed his hands in his pockets and sighed. He missed the way the watch weighed down one side of his vest, and how the chain sparkled in the moonlight on his walks home. "Maybe I'll just save up for a better one," he concluded.

"Or maybe yer goin' back tomorrow ta try and win it back," Irish Flare deducted knowingly. It wasn't like Race to replace a treasured possession so quickly. She knew what he would do.

"Or maybe I am," Race replied, a small gleam in his eye. He'd eat his hat just to see the look on the other boys' faces when he showed them that winning hand tomorrow. "I'll have me a watch soon, you'll see."

Irish Flare patted his shoulder. This wasn't the first time Racetrack had gambled something away, but determination and stubborn pride had always brought him good fortune in the end – even if it meant working extra hard to buy a replacement. "Ya know, ya always say that, and somehow ya've always been right."

Chuckling, Racetrack escorted Irish Flare towards the boarding house.

~~

Skittery held Filly in his arms, his chin lightly rested against the top of her head as they sat on the back porch of the lodging house. "And we'll get out of da city, and we'll have a big farm…"

"Wid horses?" Filly cut in.

Skittery nodded. "Wid horses of course," he confirmed.

Filly closed her eyes, imagining their own place. "Mm, dat sounds nice."

"One day then," he whispered. "One day we'll have dat."

~~

Busy burst out of the washroom stall in song, dancing her way through to the bunkroom.

"Busy, what da heck are ya doin'?" Mischief called.

"Practicin' for me big debut!" she shouted and continued on, ignoring the questioning looks on the girls' faces.

_Some day dat solo's gonna be mine._

~~

Autumn looked up at the building in front of her. In a few moments she would enter that boarding house, only to be bombarded by questions of her date, and probably various comments on why it had ended so early.

As she was about to enter, she heard the soft purrs of a cat nearby, and turned to see Lee Lee holding her kitten. "Ya know someday yer gonna get caught wid that."

Lee Lee smiled. "Dat's what everyone says, but I ain't been caught yet," she announced proudly.

"Why do you need a cat anyway?" Autumn asked softly.

Lee Lee shrugged, and before she made her way to the alley that led to the backyard of the boarding house, smiled again at Autumn. "It's nice to be loved," she answered simply.

Autumn watched her depart into the shadows and sighed. _Perhaps David needs a real date… without Jack_, she thought wistfully as she entered the house.

~~

"Fire, what's in dere?" Satine asked and pointed to the small, brown bag.

"Me savings, a coise," Fire answered quickly.

"Savings for what?" Satine inquired further. For some, saving had become a ridiculous idea. This was their life, and many had accepted the fact that they could stand living like this, having already sacrificed enough.

"For me better life, wid me better job, me better place ta live, and da friends dat helped me get dere."

Satine smiled at her. "Well den, we better make sure dat soon enough, ya got so much ta save dat it don't fit in dere."

Smiling back, Firecracker placed the bag under her pillow and hugged Satine, knowing that with her friends, she'd be able to someday have that life she had always dreamt of.

~~

Blizzard softy approached Wish's bunk, where BC and Moneybags sat beside Wish, comforting the sullen girl.

"Wish?" As soon as the words were uttered, BC and Moneybags exchanged worried glances, but Wish nodded to them, allowing them to leave.

"Look, Wish…"Blizzard sighed. "I shouldn't have said dat stuff earlier."

A small smile on her face, Wish shook her head. "It wasn't all wrong. I play things safe… I know that. I just… didn't want to get hurt anymore."

"But it was wrong of me ta say it like I did, Wish," Blizzard insisted.

"Ya try new things, Blizz. Ya take chances and sometimes dose chances take ya places ya wanna go. Yer stronger den I could evah be," Wish went on, ignoring Blizzard's attempts to cut in.

"But dere are times dose chances get me in more trouble den I wanna be in," Blizzard argued and gently took a seat beside her.

"And dat's just life. Chances are part of it… Maybe someday I'll try livin' a bit more," Wish stated. "Someday…" she trailed off.

"And someday we'll take ya ta get some colorful clothes," Blizzard smiled and gestured to Wish's black attire.

The two giggled as Wish smacked her with a convenient pillow.

~~

Admiring the moon's reflection on the water below, Spot sat on his docks alone, his chest heaving another sigh. Brooky had walked off, annoyed that Spot was apparently brooding over Fade, and Spot had stayed there, alone and confused.

"But attachment ain't good ya fool!" he yelled at himself. "She'd just make ya into a lousy love-struck boy if ya kept datin' her!" Spot thrashed his cane against the side of the docks. "Yer men would harp on ya for lovin' someone. You'd be da laughin' stock of Brooklyn!"

Lowering his voice, Spot stared up at the sky. "Or she coulda been da best thing ta ever happen to ya, and ya just blew it all 'cause of some damn reputation…"

While the night air provided no comfort for Spot in Brooklyn, Kid Blink's arms granted solace for Fade across town in Manhattan.

~~

"Hope, what say we go to da park dis weekend?"

Climbing into Blaze's lap, Hope wrapped her tiny arms around her mother. "I want to go!" she giggled, thinking of the boy who had played with her earlier that afternoon.

Hope was named for just that – hope. Her mother had lost that attribute while pregnant with her daughter, and vowed that through Hope, she would never lose it again. Hope was a symbol to her that she could go on, and that life was worth living, with _Hope_.

~~~~

__

When I dream, on my own, I'm alone but I ain't lonely


End file.
